JL    ii  m    •*  T    T      ^«-^     ^«—^  JL  >L     i   Vfc.^ 

OF-iJUDITH- 


IRVINE 


THE    WOOING    OF    JUDITH 


THE 
WOOING  OF  JUDITH 


NEW    YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,   PAGE   &  COMPANY 
1902 


P5 


ft 


Copyright,  1902,  by 

DOUBLEDAY,    PAGE    &    COMPANY 

Published,  September,  1902 


fester 

MRS.    KATE    H.  OLDS 

OF   RALEIGH,  N.   C. 
THIS  STORY   OF    LOVE   is   DEDICATED 


PRELUDE 

upon  a  time  a  king  of  Babylon, 
sitting  amid  the  bewildering  splendours 
of  his  court,  called  before  him  his  poets 
and  musicians,  and  bade  them  make  for  him  a 
song  that  should  live  forever.  They  hastened 
to  obey  the  royal  command,  and  in  the  festival 
that  followed  many  brave  stories  were  told; 
and  the  king  thought  that  surely  some  of  them 
must  be  imperishable.  One  chanted  the  glories 
of  war  and  the  feats  of  martial  heroes.  One 
wove  a  chaplet  of  verse  to  fame.  Another  told 
of  Babylon  the  Great — her  hanging  gardens, 
her  many-towered  temples,  her  enchantments 
and  her  power.  Still  another,  a  courtier  first 
and  poet  afterwards,  tossed  his  daring  flat 
teries  into  the  face  of  the  king.  Monarchs 
made  of  meaner  clay  than  he,  said  this  bold 
sycophant,  had  gone  down  into  the  silent  tombs 
never  to  return  even  in  the  thoughts  of  men ;  but 
this  king  was  cast  in  different  mould ;  the  bending 
heavens  fraught  with  stars  declared  that  he 
should  be  as  a  god,  and  the  hand  of  Death 


Prelude 

Eternal  should  pass  him  by.  He  named  the 
great  works  of  the  king,  his  mighty  roads,  his 
harnessed  rivers,  his  ever  victorious  armies. 
These  were  not  the  achievements  of  a  mortal 
man,  and  it  was  inconceivable  that  the  spirit 
which  had  wrought  all  this  should  ever  flicker 
and  go  out  in  the  night  of  oblivion. 

And  the  king  was  pleased  with  all  the  poets, 
but  more  especially  with  the  song  of  himself, 
which  he  believed,  being  unforgettable,  would 
give  him  to  immortality.  But  as  the  years 
passed  the  king  died  and  was  forgotten;  the 
great  works  of  his  hand  crumbled  into  dust; 
Babylon  was  blotted  out  and  became  a  mere 
heap  upon  the  desert;  and  song  after  song  of 
that  great  festival  passed  from  the  minds  of 
men,  for  none  of  the  poets  who  clustered  about 
the  throne  of  the  king  had  thought  to  sing  of 
Love — Love,  the  one  thing  that  bears  within 
itself  the  essence  of  immortality  ! 

It  is  my  purpose  in  this  volume  to  reverse 
for  a  short  space  the  glass  of  Time  so  that  the 
sands  shall  run  backward  down  the  sunny  slope 
to  a  period  when  England  held  us  in  the  hollow 
of  her  hand ;  for  in  that  twilight  of  our  history 
I  have  found  an  echo  of  that  unsung  song  that 
lives  forever.  Not  daring  adventures,  nor 
feats  of  arms,  nor  impossible  dangers,  nor 


Prelude 

thrilling  mysteries  are  my  concern,  but  only  a 
forgotten  love  story  of  the  long  ago.  Tis  a 
far  cry  to  those  dead  days,  but  hearts  were 
human  in  that  shadowland  of  the  past;  love 
kissed  with  wine-red  lips,  and  passion  stretched 
white  hands  insistently;  and  so  it  is  this  story 
of  the  ache  and  the  ecstacy  of  it  all  rises  before 
me  and  demands  a  scribe. 

Where  the  poets  of  old  left  off,  I  take  up  the 
task,  striking  the  chord  they  left  untouched; 
and  weaving  from  the  broken  threads  of  romance 
that  have  blown  down  the  vanishing  years  a 
web  of  song  whose  woof  and  warp  are  love, 
love,  love ! 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Exiles          '. ',         . '         ~.  3 

II.  On  the  High  Seas       .         .         .  17 

III.  A  New  Strand  in  the  Romance  30 

IV.  The  Crossing  of  the  Threads        .  41 
V.  The  Ghost  of  Rivermead    .         .  55 

VI.  Lissa ......  67 

VII.  A  Love  of  the  Long  Ago     .         .  78 

VIII.  Seton's  Return   ....  86 

IX.  Under  the  Candelabra         .         .  97 

X.  A  Dance  and  a  Dice  Box    .          .  113 

XL  A  Thread  of  Gold        ...  127 

XII.  A  New  Sail  Over  the  Sea    .          .  140 

XIII.  In  the  Shadow   .         .         .         .150 

XIV.  The  Awakening           .         .         .  159 
XV.  A  Happy  Day  at  Rivermead      .  172 

XVI.  The  Message  of  Doom         .         .  187 

XVII.  The  Voice  of  the  Tempter          .  197 

XVIII.  "  Thread  of  Love,  or  Thread  of 

Sin  ?  "           .          .          .          .  210 

XIX.  The  Second  Letter  in  the  Packet  221 

XX.  "  Speak  Now,  or  Forever  Hold 

Your  Peace."       .         .         .230 

XXI.  Tenants  of  a  Fevered  Brain        .  245 

XXII.  Under   a  Tropic  Sun          .         .  254 

XXIII.  The  Fringes  of  a  Shadow  .         .  263 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXIV.  Out  of  a  Vanished  June-Time     . 

XXV.  Darkness 

XXVI.  Man  to  Man  ; 

XXVII.  Snarling  the  Threads 

XXVIII.  The  Ball  at  Greenspring     ; 

XXIX.  Piecing  out  the  Threads  of  Fate 

XXX.  Tony  Wins  His  Heart's  Desire   . 

XXXI.  "The    Coin    of    the    Realm  of 

Hearts"        . 

XXXII.  The  Last  Cast  of  the  Shuttle 


PAGE 
276 

285 
297 

308 
324 
336 

353 

366 
384 


THE    WOOING    OF    JUDITH 


THE  WOOING   OF  JUDITH 

CHAPTER   I. 

EXILES. 

"The  world  was  all  before  them,  where  to  choose 
Their  place  of  rest,  and  Providence  their  guide." 

— MILTON. 

TUDITH,  Judith,    your   eyes    are   as   grave 

•*    as  a  funeral-weeper's,"  laughed  the  boy. 

You  surely  do  not  credit  what  the  hag  hath 
said?  She  would  have  told  anyone  else  the 
same  fortune  for  a  like  bit  of  silver." 

But  without  answering  Judith  watched  the 
old  woman  slowly  descend  the  steep  cliff  path 
to  the  shore  upon  which  the  tumbled  winter 
sea  threw  itself  sullenly.  When  the  crone  had 
reached  the  level  sand  and  begun  to  gather  bits 
of  driftwood  for  a  faggot,  the  girl  turned  to 
her  companion  and  lifting  her  hand,  palm 
upward,  scrutinized  it  closely. 

'"Much  joy,  a  terrible  grief,  gold  in  plenty, 
four  lovers,  a  long  journey,  one  husband,  and 
to  live  and  love  and  die  in  a  far-away  land. ' 

3 


4  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Now,  Newton,  how  think  you  the  old  witch 
could  see  all  that  in  my  palm?" 

"  Tis  in  sooth  a  small  page  to  bear  so  much 
of  news.  Let  me  see  if  I  can  read  it. " 

But  she  drew  her  hand  from  his  reach.  "  Nay, 
you  stumble  over  the  coarse  print  of  your 
Psalter,  'tis  not  supposable  that  you  could  read 
where  there  are  no  words,  only  little,  hair-like 
lines.  But  come,  it  is  growing  late  and  cold." 
She  turned  as  she  spoke  and  they  started  across 
the  upland  toward  the  house  that  overlooked 
the  sea  from  its  high  cliff.  Newton  talked  as 
they  went,  but  Judith  was  silent  and  thought 
ful.  At  last  she  said  meditatively: 

"Four  lovers; — that  does  not  sound  like  a 
mighty  multitude,  does  it?  Most  girls  have 
a  dozen." 

'  'Tis  already  three  too  many, "  the  boy 
answered  irritably. 

She  looked  at  him  with  her  clear,  grave  eyes. 
"Nurse  always  said,  when  we  were  children, 
that  you  were  close-fisted,  Newton;  and  here 
you  are  wishing  to  pay  the  niggard  even  with 
my  lovers." 

"Well,  I'd  never  play  it  with  my  love,  if 
only " 

But  she  was  again  studying  her  palm,  and 
gave  him  no  heed. 


Exiles  5 

"Joy  and  sorrow  and  money  and  lovers; 
there's  nothing  uncommon  in  that;  'tis  what 
might  fall  to  any  girl. " 

"Yes,  the  gipsy  hag  hath  probably  won 
many  a  silver  piece  besides  that  one  of  mine 
with  this  same  tale  of  fortune,"  the  boy  an 
swered. 

"And  she  said  I  would  one  day  be  mistress  of 
a  fine  house; — I  wonder  which  of  these  lines  is 
the  path  that  leads  to  it. " 

"The  one  that  runs  due  east,  I  hope,  since 
that  would  lead  to  Lincoln  Hall. " 

"That  cannot  be,  for  by  the  prophecy  I  am 
to  marry  a  man  with  fair  eyes,"  she  answered, 
looking  at  him  without  a  trace  of  coquetry  in 
her  voice  or  manner,  and  with  a  certain  con 
viction  that  made  him  suddenly  detest  the 
brown  orbs  that  were  a  heritage  of  the  Lincolns. 
"And  besides,"  she  continued,  "my  husband 
is  to  be  tall  and  strong  and— 

"Well,  I  am  but  nineteen;  a  man  may  grow 
to  be  six  feet  in  two  more  years.  And  as  for 
the  strength,  I'm  not  going  to  be  sick  always." 

She  touched  his  arm  with  a  swift  sympathy. 
"Indeed  you  are  not;  I  think  you  are  better 
every  month. " 

"I  am,"  but  there  was  more  strength  of 
spirit  than  of  body  in  his  voice.  "And  as  for 


6  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

the  colour  of  an  eye,  what  can  that  old  hag  tell 
of  such  things  ?  Nothing,  nothing?  The  whole 
matter  is  a  piece  of  guess-work,  a  silly  witch- 
tale,"  he  concluded  sharply. 

"Of  course  it  is,"  she  admitted;  and  then 
immediately  fell  to  studying  her  hand  again. 

"A  long  journey;  I  wonder  whither,  and  for 
what—  And  think  of  living  and  dying  away 
from  Cotslea?" 

"A  journey  might  not  be  improbable,  seeing 
how  many  families  are  leaving  England  just 
now.  My  father  declares  he  will  quit  the 
country  before  he  swears  allegiance  to  a  Round 
head  Government;  and  Sir  Thomas  is  quite  as 
bitter  in  his  way  of  feeling." 

"Yes,"  the  girl  said  dreamily.  "I  fear  we 
have  fallen  upon  evil  days,  but  'twill  all  come 
right  when  the  Prince  is  crowned  and  Cromwell 
is  sent  back  to  his  brewing.  Good  night, 
Newton;  shall  we  go  again  to  the  witch's  cabin 
to-morrow  and  see  if  she  has  forgotten  what  she 
said  to-day  and  will  tell  us  a  new  fortune?" 

"Yes;  and  do  you  borrow  the  housekeeper's 
black  hood  and  mantle  so  the  number  of  your 
lovers  may  be  cut  down — 'tis  a  wonder  the 
crone  gave  you  not  twenty  in  that  blue  tippet. " 

And  Judith  laughed,  and  instantly  forgot 
the  evil  days  upon  which  they  had  fallen.  But 


Exiles  7 

she  had  spoken  truly,  only  she  had  not  meas 
ured  accurately  the  storm  that  made  the  days 
so  terrible,  seeing  it  only  from  the  narrow  out 
look  of  her  own  home.  But  there  was  con 
sternation  in  England,  amazement  and  horror 
throughout  Europe,  for  the  tragedy  at  White 
hall  had  been  consummated;  a  royal  head  had 
fallen  under  the  headsman's  axe,  and  the  "blood 
of  the  man  of  blood"  had  been  spilled  by  the 
Puritan. 

For  the  nonce  vengeance  had  seemed  satis 
fied,  but  well  the  Cavaliers  knew  that  when  the 
first  paralysis  of  surprise  at  their  own  action 
had  passed,  the  Roundheads'  resentment  would 
neither  slumber  nor  sleep.  It  would  require 
many  heads  from  the  executioner's  basket 
to  balance  the  scales  adjusted  by  the  fana 
ticism  of  the  age.  Indictments,  convictions, 
confiscations,  executions  would  be  wholesale; 
and  it  behooved  those  of  the  king's  party 
not  already  in  the  toils  of  the  law  and  the 
enemy,  to  make  good  their  escape  while  it  was 
yet  possible.  And  so  in  the  lull  following  the 
storm-burst  of  Charles's  death,  hundreds  of 
Cavaliers  fled  their  native  land  and  sought 
refuge  across  the  channel  or  beyond  the  sea. 
Many  went  to  Holland  or  to  Scotland  to 
await  the  coming  of  the  young  Stuart  heir 


8  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

whose  coronation  would  be  their  political  sal 
vation.  But  some  there  were  who  saw  in  the 
horizon  no  star  betokening  hope  for  the  future 
of  kingship  in  England — men  who  gauged  more 
adequately  the  strength  of  the  new  government 
and  foresaw  the  futility  of  the  prolonged  Royal 
ist  struggle.  These  men  bethought  them,  not 
of  a  transient  exile,  but  of  a  permanent  home 
in  the  Colonies  across  the  Atlantic. 

Yet  not  in  New  England  would  they  seek 
asylum,  where  the  settlers,  themselves  refugees 
from  religious  persecutions,  had  turned  persecu 
tors  of  all  creeds  out  of  attune  with  their 
straightened  ideas.  Rather  did  they  look  for 
welcome  from  the  Southern  Colonies  which, 
settled  largely  by  voluntary  exiles  and  under 
the  protection  of  royalty,  still  preserved  a  strong 
sentiment  of  allegiance  to  the  king  and  the 
Established  Church  of  England.  And  so  their 
prows  were  turned  toward  the  Chesapeake 
and  the  Albemarle,  and  the  best  blood  of  Eng 
land  flowed  into  Virginia  and  Carolina  to  es 
tablish  there  an  aristocracy  rivalling  in  pride 
and  dignity  that  of  the  home  country. 

Among  those  who  were  not  deceived  by  the 
prospect  in  England  was  Sir  Thomas  Gary,  who 
had  left  an  arm  at  Marston  Moor  and  knew  that 
no  matter  what  turn  affairs  took,  his  fighting 


Exiles  9 

days  were  over.  The  day  after  Judith's  walk 
with  Newton  there  must  have  been  unusual 
tidings  from  London,  for  he  came,  in  great  ex 
citement,  into  the  room  where  his  daughter  sat 
idly  strumming  on  her  spinet. 

"  Get  up  from  there,  Judith,  child,  "  he  cried, 
"and  go  pack  your  boxes,  and  put  in  your 
mother's  portrait  and  those  things  you  most 
value,  for  what  we  leave  behind  will  no  doubt 
be  confiscated  by  Cromwell's  vultures.  " 

"And  what  should  all  this  packing  mean?" 
she  asked,  going  on  with  her  tune,  but  in  a 
minor  key,  looking  at  him  the  while  with  her 
blue  eyes  that  were  like  his,  only  softer  and 
darker. 

"  It  means  that  the  axe  at  Whitehall  will  not 
be  content  with  one  head,  however  high,  but 
that  I  do  not  mean  to  contribute  mine  to  help 
glut  its  appetite.  Your  brothers  will  stay  and 
fight  for  the  Prince,  but  you  and  I  will  away  to 
the  Colonies  and  bide  there  till  the  storm  be 
passed. " 

"To  the  Colonies,  father?"  faltered  Judith, 
whose  ideas  of  America  were  vague  and  not 
over  pleasing. 

"Aye,  child,  to  the  Colonies.  An  I  go  not 
there,  'twill  be  to  the  block  instead,  for  the 
Roundheads  love  me  not;  and  there  be  not  a 


10 


The  Wooing  of  Judith 


hole  in  all  England  small  enough  or  dark  enough 
to  hide  a  man  from  Cromwell's  ire; — I  know 
him  of  old,  hard  as  flint  and  crafty  as  a  fox." 

"But  my  brothers — I  pray  you,  Sir,  why 
should  they  not  come  with  us  ?" 

"Because,  forsooth,  they  must  stay  and 
fight  for  the  Prince;  'tis  their  duty  and  their 
choice.  They  be  young  and  strong,  not  old 
and  maimed  as  I,  "  he  answered,  with  a  pathetic 
motion  toward  the  empty  sleeve  pinned  across 
his  breast.  "I  am  naught  but  a  broken  stick; 
but  praise  be  to  God  my  sons  can  still  bear  arms 
for  their  sovereign.  They  will  go  straight  to 
Scotland  and  there  await  the  landing  of  Prince 
Charles. — But  come,  child,  get  you  gone  and 
begin  your  packing." 

But  Judith  was  not  over  given  to  obedience 
when  it  jumped  not  with  her  inclination,  so  she 
lingered  until  she  teased  from  him  all  there  was 
to  tell  of  their  plans. 

"How  and  when  do  we  go?" 

"Five  days  hence  on  the  Tigress,  if  no  mis 
chance  befall.  Edward  Lincoln  has  already 
gone  to  make  application  to  the  sailing  master 
for  passage  for  our  families.  " 

"The  Lincolns? — Ah,  I  am  glad  Newton 
goes  with  us. " 

"  'Tis  certain  he  would  not  go  without  you, " 


Exiles  1 1 

her  father  teased,  catching  one  of  her  long 
braids ;  but  she  pulled  it  from  him. 

"  Keep  to  the  matter  in  hand,  father.  When 
we  reach  the  Colonies,  whither  then?" 

"To  Virginia,  to  our  cousin,  Laurence  Falk- 
ner.  He  will  give  us  shelter  until  such  time  as 
I  can  look  about  and  choose  a  biding  place.  I 
have  already  writ  him  by  a  bark  that  sailed 
yester'  morning,  for  this  plan  has  been  in  my 
mind  since  the  king's  death.  You  have  not 
forgot  your  Cousin  Laurence,  I  dare  swear." 

"Ah,  no,"  answered  Judith  quickly.  "He 
was  not  like  my  brothers,  for  although  so  much 
older  than  I  he  was  ever  ready  to  amuse  me 
when  I  was  weary  of  being  by  myself.  I  mind 
well  the  day  Robert  caught  him  playing  at 
dolls  with  me  and  called  him  'Betty,'  or  some 
girl  name;  and  how  he  put  down  the  doll  and 
thrashed  Robert,  and  then  came  back  to  finish 
our  play  as  though  nothing  had  happened. — I 
was  very  fond  of  Cousin  Laurence.  " 

"And  right  fond  he  was  of  you,  little  mistress. 
When  his  father  took  him  away  to  America 
'twas  you  he  hated  most  to  leave.  Let  me  see ; 
that  was  ten  years  ago,  and  you  were  then  but 
a  chit  of  nine.  Methinks  Laurence  will  find 
you  somewhat  changed. "  He  laughed  as  he 
pinched  her  cheek  and  then  kissed  the  spot 


12  The   Wooing   of  Judith 

lovingly,  for  she  was  his  only  daughter  and  the 
child  of  his  old  age;  her  brothers,  Robert  and 
Thomas,  being  six  and  eight  years  her  seniors. 
Her  mother  had  died  while  she  was  yet  a  baby, 
and  so  from  the  time  she  could  reach  up  to  lock 
a  closet  she  had  been  mistress  of  her  father's 
house.  And  now  she  was  to  go  away  to  a 
strange  country  and  leave  the  familiar  rooms 
shut  up  in  silence,  or  else  to  be  usurped  by 
strangers.  The  announcement  of  this  had  been 
so  sudden  that  a  full  realization  was  slow  in 
coming  to  her.  It  seemed  like  some  horrible 
nightmare  from  which  she  must  presently 
awake.  Sir  Thomas's  voice,  as  he  again  went 
over  their  plans,  seemed  far  away,  like  the  mur 
mur  of  the  waves  that  mutters  and  trembles, 
but  never  breaks  into  intelligible  speech.  After 
he  had  left  her  she  stood  gazing  about  at  the 
walls  and  the  furniture  she  had  known  since  her 
baby  days,  until  the  slowly  gathering  tears 
blurred  them  from  her  sight. 

"Father?"  she  cried,  running  to  the  door 
through  which  he  had  passed.  "Father,  I 
cannot  go.  Let  us  stay  here  and  brave  it  out 
together;  they  will  not  dare  to  touch  you.  " 

But  he  was  beyond  the  reach  of  her  voice ; 
and  then  there  swept  over  her  the  full  extent 
of  his  peril ;  she  would  be  spared  by  the  Round- 


Exiles  13 

heads,  since  killing  women  was  not  their  trade ; 
but  her  father — she  shuddered  in  a  sudden 
horror  of  the  axe  and  the  block ;  and  in  breath 
less  haste  fled  away  to  the  servants'  hall. 

"Come,  every  one  of  you.  Get  boxes  and 
cords  and  nails;  let  us  to  work?" 

For  days  the  house  was  in  a  state  of  ferment 
with  the  ransacking  of  closets  and  the  opening 
of  long  unused  chests.  Sir  Thomas  insisted 
that  but  little  luggage  could  be  taken,  and 
Judith  kept  the  packers  busy  with  the  swift 
changes  of  her  mind.  It  seemed  impossible  to 
leave  anything;  there  was  the  chair  in  which 
the  mother  she  had  never  known  had  rocked 
her  babies ;  there  was  her  own  spinet,  and  there 
was  the  mahogany  settle  on  which  she  and  her 
father  had  spent  so  many  happy  twilight  hours 
telling  stories  of  fairies  and  heroes.  To  her 
childish  fancy  it  had  seemed  always  haunted 
with  the  spirits  of  dead  warriors. 

"Father,  cannot  we  take  the  settle? "she 
pleaded,  "it  seems  like  deserting  so  many  friends 
to  leave  it. " 

But  Sir  Thomas  was  firm ;  only  the  plate  and 
picture's  and  the  rare  hangings  from  the  walls 
could  go.  The  house  looked  desolate  enough 
on  the  fourth  day,  stripped  of  its  choicest 
treasures ;  but  Judith  comforted  her  father  with 


14  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

hopeful  talk  of  the  time  when  they  should  re 
turn  and  set  up  their  household  idols  in  the 
old  niches.  For  surely,  she  told  herself,  the 
gipsy's  words  had  been  but  an  idle  guess,  and 
it  was  only  a  journey  and  not  a  life-time  biding 
on  which  she  was  starting. 

When  all  was  done  she  was  in  a  fever  to 
be  gone,  for  already  there  were  vague  rumours 
from  London  concerning  Sir  Thomas,  whose 
quick  tongue  lost  no  opportunity  to  gibe  at  the 
new  government.  And  on  the  heels  of  the 
threats  came  a  body  of  soldiers  who  patrolled 
the  neighbourhood  and  kept  an  eye  on  Cotslea. 
Newton  Lincoln  came  over  to  warn  her. 

"  Father  says  'twill  be  necessary  for  us  to  go 
quietly  at  night.  He  has  gone  to  make  arrange 
ments  with  the  ship  master  to  send  a  boat  to 
morrow  night,  and  I  am  to  stay  and  help  you 
keep  Sir  Thomas  in  the  house,  so  that  he  may 
not  further  anger  the  soldiers." 

"That  is  good  of  you,  Newton.  You  shall 
play  at  chess  with  him  all  day,  and  let  him 
beat  you ;  for  so  long  as  he  is  winning  he  is  con 
tent  to  stay  indoors." 

And  so  at  last  with  much  secrecy  and  under 
cover  of  darkness  their  departure  was  effected. 
Under  a  load  of  hay  for  the  market  their  boxes 
had  already  gone  to  the  ship's  wharf;  so  it  only 


Exiles  1 5 

remained  for  them  to  make  their  way  to  the 
beach  and  wait  under  a  cliff  for  the  coming  of 
the  boat. 

"When  we  come  back,  Judith,"  Newton 
whispered,  holding  her  hand  in  the  dark,  "I 
have  something  sweet  to  ask  you;  something 
that  has  been  in  my  thoughts  for  weeks." 

And  Judith  returned  the  pressure  of  his 
fingers,  and  strained  her  eyes  over  the  water. 
She  had  known  Newton  all  her  life ;  she  thought 
of  him  as  of  her  own  blood.  When  finally  the 
boat  came  and  she  sat  beside  her  father  and 
looked  back  to  the  house  on  the  cliff,  dark  now 
save  for  one  bright  spark  in  the  housekeeper's 
window,  she  remembered  again  the  gipsy's 
prophecy,  and  there  came  upon  her  a  chilling 
conviction  that  she  was  going  out  forever  from 
the  home  of  her  childhood,  "to  live  and  love 
and  die  in  a  far-away  land."  The  outlines  of 
the  house  melted  into  the  gloom  and  the  whole 
pile  was  gradually  swallowed  up  in  the  shadows ; 
but  she  kept  her  eyes  on  that  tiny  point  of  light 
until  the  gathering  tears  blurred  it  from  sight. 

"Good-bye,  Cotslea,  good-bye  forever,"  she 
whispered  under  her  breath,  her  heart  filled  with 
a  passionate  longing  for  the  old  tranquillity, 
the  old  order  of  things.  And  on  the  vessel's 
deck,  watching  the  shore  line  merge  into  the 


1 6  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

darkness,  she  whispered  again:  "Good-bye, 
England;  good-bye  forever!"  And  all  night 
long  the  lap  of  the  waves  against  the  vessel's 
side  repeated  the  sad  farewell. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ON    THE    HIGH    SEAS. 

41  One  same,  harmonious,  universal  law 
Atom  to  atom,  star  to  star  can  d.iaw, 
And  heart  to  heart." 

— THE  NEW  TIMON. 

T^OR  culture  and  high  standing  the  pas 
senger  list  of  the  Tigress  was  a  brilliant 
one,  for  many  a  noble  family  of  England 
had  there  its  representative,  flying  like  the 
Carys  from  the  destruction  falling  so  heavily 
upon  the  adherents  of  the  ill-starred  Stuarts. 
Some  few  were  there  who  had  clung  to  the 
king  through  a  personal  attachment;  but  the 
large  majority  had  dra\vn  their  swords  for  him 
from  the  deep  sentiment  of  allegiance  to  the 
anointed  ruler,  that  faith  unfailing  in  the  jus 
divinum  which  is  the  common  heritage  of  Eng 
lishmen.  They  needs  must  have  a  government 
head  to  which  they  could  look  up;  and  since, 
by  the  laws  of  descent,  Charles  stood  next  to 
the  throne,  he  had  been  their  sovereign,  their 
royal  ruler.  He  who  would  reign  after  him, 
this  Cromwell,  was  a  commoner,  not  so  high  in 


1 8  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

the  social  scale  as  themselves.     The  feeling  of 
caste  was  strong  among  them. 

"I  tell  you,  Sirs,"  said  hot-tempered  Sir 
Thomas  Gary,  as  he  stood  in  the  stern  of  the 
ship  talking,  as  they  were  always  talking,  of 
English  affairs;  "I  tell  you,  Sirs,  I'd  rather  be 
misruled  by  a  prince  of  the  blood  than  have 
wise  laws  rammed  down  my  throat  by  a  com 
moner.  'Tis  out  of  all  reason  that  a  man  of 
the  people  should  rule  his  betters." 

"True,  true,"  was  the  ready  answer. 

"The  son  of  a  brewer  should  sit  upon  a  cask, 
not  a  throne ;  for  his  hands  know  more  of  spigots 
than  of  sceptres." 

"You  are  right,  Sir  Thomas;  it  takes  a  differ 
ent  grip  of  the  fingers  to  manage  the  two,  and  a 
commoner's  bones  have  not  the  right  crook  to 
fit  around  a  rod  of  office.'* 

"How  will  a  crown  look  upon  that  close- 
cropped  head  of  his  ? "  sneered  a  tall  man  whose 
crest  was  a  ducal  coronet. 

"They  say  he  hath  declared  against  the 
throne,  and  will  call  himself  simply  Protector; 
but  I'll  wager  he'll  soon  be  so  enamoured  of  a 
kingly  estate  he  will  be  sleeping  in  his  crown, " 
was  the  caustic  answer. 

"Yes,"  said  a  third  man,  "a  convert  to 
royalty,  like  a  proselyte  to  religion,  is  apt  to  run 


On  the  High  Seas  19 

to  fanaticism.  'Twill  not  be  six  months  ere 
Oliver  Cromwell  will  be  plotting  to  marry  his 
clod  of  a  son  to  some  princess  of  the  Continent.  " 

"An  he  does,  he  should  be  drawn  and 
quartered  for  his  impudence,"  burst  in  Sir 
Thomas.  "A  girl  of  the  tap-room  would  be 
nearer  his  stripe.  Princess  indeed  !  'Tis  risky 
for  a  man  to  marry  out  of  his  sphere,  but  for 
a  woman  'tis  foolhardy.  Egad,  sirs,  I  had 
rather  marry  my  daughter  to  a  tipsy  gentle 
man  than  to  a  sober  churl ;  for  at  least  in  his 
clear-headed  moments  the  gentleman  would 
know  how  to  treat  her,  while  the  thick-skulled 
churl  would  never  know." 

He  waved  his  hand  as  though  his  argument 
were  unanswerable,  and  moving  back  found  a 
seat  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd. 

"You  spake  right  truly,  Sir  Thomas,"  said 
a  friend  at  his  elbow,  "but  from  present  ap 
pearances  methinks  you  will  have  no  call  to 
choose  between  a  drunkard  or  a  sober  churl 
for  a  son-in-law.  Your  daughter  seems  to 
have  better  taste  than  to  think  of  either." 

Following  his  friend's  glance  Sir  Thomas  be 
held,  farther  up  the  deck,  in  a  nook  made  by 
some  boxes  and  cordage  not  yet  stored,  a  most 
charming  picture.  Judith,  clad  in  a  dark 
gown,  the  pointed  collar  and  high  sleeves 


20  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

of  which  were  slashed  with  white  silk,  sat  upon 
a  rope  coil.  Her  head,  about  which  the  brown 
braids  were  bound,  was  raised  so  that  her  full 
face  with  its  delicate  colour,  its  red  mouth  and 
soft  eyes,  was  clearly  visible.  She  was  slender, 
and  her  beauty  had  that  ethereal  touch  which, 
in  the  hearts  of  those  nearest  to  her,  tempered 
admiration  with  apprehension.  Beside  her, 
leaning  on  the  ship's  rail  with  one  elbow,  his 
plumed  hat  dangling  from  his  other  hand,  his 
blond  hair  blowing  in  the  wind,  stood  as  hand 
some  a  Cavalier  as  ever  wore  lovelocks  or  sang 
a  serenade  beneath  a  lady's  window.  Evi 
dently  Mistress  Judith  had  him  at  disadvantage, 
for  whereas  she  was  laughing,  his  look  was  cast 
down  and  serious. 

Sir  Thomas  frowned  as  his  glance  took  in  the 
two;  then  he  said  petulantly:  "Tut,  tut! 
'tis  nothing.  Young  people  must  amuse  them 
selves,  though  the  skies  should  fall." 

But  he  soon  quitted  the  knot  of  politicians, 
and,  joining  his  daughter,  broke  up  the  tete-a-tete 
she  had  found  so  diverting. 

"  You  must  not  be  keeping  Captain  Seton  so 
much  from  his  other  friends ;  they  will  put  you 
down  for  selfish, "  he  said,  though  Arthur  Seton 
knew  he  meant  that  he  should  not  monopolize 
Judith's  attention.  It  was  not  the  first  hint 


On  the  High  Seas  21 

Sir  Thomas  had  given  on  this  line  since  the 
morning  after  Judith  came  aboard.     When  he 
first  saw  her  she  had   been   standing   at   the 
stern  of  the  ship  straining  her  eyes  longingly, 
futilely,  for  one  last  glimpse  of   English   shore. 
The  early  sunlight  fell  about  her  in  a  golden 
shower,  and  at  her  feet  and  all  around  her  was 
the  leaping,  flashing  splendour  of  the  sea.     She 
seemed  the  incarnate  spirit   of    the  dawn,   so 
fair  she  was,  so  lithe  and  free  of  motion.     His 
admiration  was  in  his  eyes  and  attitude  when 
suddenly  she    turned    and   their  glances   met. 
For  one    fascinated    moment   each   gaze    held 
the  other,  but  in   that    single    moment   some 
thing  new  was  born  within  them.     Then  her 
gaze    fell.     The    next    moment,     though    he 
marveled  at  his  own  daring,  he  was  beside  her, 
a  dropped  scarf  serving  as  a  pretext,  and  four 
eyes  instead  of  two  were  looking  out  over  the 
sparkling  water  to  the  dim  horizon  line  that  had 
been  their  home ;  and  a  subtle  sense  of  sym 
pathy  crept  into  Judith's  heart,  and  she  was 
glad  of  his  coming.     From  that  hour  he  had 
sought  her  constantly,  in  spite  of  Sir  Thomas's 
evident  disapproval. 

"  He  renders  you  conspicuous  with  his  pre 
tense  of  love-making,"  he  said  shortly,  when 
she  ventured  to  remonstrate;  and  so  Judith, 


22  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

by  way  of  amends  to  Arthur,  smiled  on  him 
a  trifle  more  warmly  than  would  otherwise 
have  happened. 

Sir  Thomas  had  spoken  truly  when  he  said 
that  young  people  must  amuse  themselves, 
though  the  skies  should  fall.  The  long  days 
on  shipboard  must  somehow  be  disposed  of; 
and  the  voyagers  filled  them  with  merriment. 
They  were  leaving  their  homes  behind,  it  was 
true;  but  they  had  escaped  the  prison  and  the 
block,  and  the  world  was  wide  before  them. 
Their  elastic  spirits  rebounded  under  the  ex 
citement  and  relief  of  their  journey,  so  that  a 
vessel  passing  them  on  the  high  seas,  and  stop 
ping  to  speak  them  fair,  took  them  for  a  pleas 
ure  party  rather  than  a  company  of  homeless 
fugitives,  such  jesting  and  laughter  were  in 
the  cabins,  such  singing  and  dancing  on  the 
deck  when  the  wind  blew  soft. 

Only  at  times  did  Judith  think  of  Cotslea. 
Then  she  sent  Arthur  Seton  away,  and  sat  apart 
with  Newton  and  talked  of  the  days  when  they 
had  run  races  in  the  garden  or  played  hide- 
and-seek  in  the  halls.  And  Newton  held  her 
hand  and  promised  vehemently  that  she  should 
one  day  go  back ;  and  she  believed  him  and  was 
comforted. 

Of  this  new  life  upon  whose  threshold  she 


On  the  High  Seas  23 

stood  she  had  but  a  vague  idea,  for  her  cousin's 
few  letters  had  been  filled  with  questions  concern 
ing  those  at  Cotslea  rather  than  with  details  of 
his  Virginia  home.  His  father  had  been  own 
cousin  to  Sir  Thomas,  and  while  Judith  was  yet 
a  little  child  they  had  bided  at  Cotslea  two 
years  in  order  that  Mistress  Falkner  might 
have  the  little  maid  in  charge.  But  her  ad 
ministration  had  not  been  a  success,  for  her 
ideas  of  child-training  were  directly  opposed 
to  those  of  Sir  Thomas,  so  that  Judith  was  near 
to  being  ruined  between  the  severity  of  the  one 
and  the  petting  of  the  other.  After  that 
Charles  Falkner  took  his  family  to  America, 
where  he  won  wealth  and  prominence,  until  an 
injury,  received  through  a  fall  from  his  horse, 
lost  him  his  memory.  His  last  days  had  been 
spent  in  a  state  of  pitiful,  childish  forgetfulness ; 
but  he  was  now  dead,  and  Laurence  and  Mistress 
Falkner  lived  alone  on  their  vast  estate. 
Judith's  memories  of  her  aunt  were  not  pleasant, 
because  of  that  strict  discipline  which  her 
father  opposed;  but  of  Laurence  she  had  been 
much  fonder  than  of  her  brothers,  who  were 
intolerant  of  her  small,  feminine  weaknesses. 
Against  them,  as  against  his  mother,  Laurence 
had  always  taken  her  part,  thus  giving  her  a 
sense  of  protection  she  had  never  forgot.  When 


24  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

they  reached  port  she  and  her  father  were  to  go 
directly  to  the  Falkners',  but  beyond  that  all 
was  conjecture.  The  hope  that  was  with  her 
in  her  waking  and  sleeping  hours  was  for  the 
coronation  of  Charles,  and  hers  and  her  father's 
return  to  Cotslea. 

For  three  weeks  the  ship  threaded  its  way 
westward  toward  the  spot  where,  every  evening, 
the  sun  burnt  its  way  downward  to  the  under 
deep.  They  had  had  an  unusually  smooth 
passage,  and  the  shipmaster  said  cheerily  one 
morning  that  a  few  more  days  and  they  would 
see  the  land.  But  his  reckoning  was  awry,  for 
that  afternoon  the  sky  was  overcast,  and  by 
the  following  morning  they  were  plunging 
through  a  sea  of  yeasting  waves  before  a  furi 
ous  gale,  far  from  their  rightful  course.  The 
decks  were  deserted,  the  jests  of  yesterday 
forgotten,  and  the  faces  in  the  cabin  were  white 
and  anxious  as  the  sturdy  ship  groaned  under 
the  thunderous  blows  of  the  waves,  or  stag 
gered  from  the  deep  hollows  of  the  sea  to  the 
towering  billows'  crests.  For  two  days  the 
storm  raged,  and  when  at  last  the  wind  fell 
they  were  miles  out  of  their  track  and  must 
beat  their  way  laboriously  back  through  the 
leagues  whither  the  storm-wraith  had  driven 
them. 


On  the  High  Seas  25 

To  Judith  those  clays  of  storm  were  like  a 
prolonged  nightmare,  but  when  the  captain's 
cheerful  face  told  the  welcome  tidings  of  re 
turning  calm,  she  was  the  first  of  the  women  to 
regain  her  spirits.  Her  father  was  dozing  in 
his  berth,  and  in  the  tumult  of  joy  the  captain's 
announcement  created  in  the  cabin,  she  slipped 
away  and  followed  him  on  deck. 

"Ho,  ho  !"  cried  the  old  man,  "ready  to  turn 
out  as  soon  as  the  storm  passes,  are  you? 
There's  the  making  of  a  sailor  in  you,  lass. 
But  'tis  a  bit  rough  yet;  I'll  put  you  out  of  the 
wind."  He  guided  her  to  a  sheltered  place  on 
the  leeward  side  of  the  deck  and  left  her. 

She  stood  filling  her  lungs  with  the  keen  salt 
air,  so  invigorating  after  that  long  stay  in  the 
cabin ;  then  with  both  elbows  on  the  rail  and  her 
face  in  her  palms  she  looked  out  over  the  world 
of  tumbling  waters  and  fell  into  a  delicious 
revery.  In  the  west  the  sky  was  clearing;  the 
danger  was  passed,  they  would  not  go  down 
forever  to  the  mermaids  and  the  fishes.  Yonder 
behind  the  gold  and  purple  of  the  sunset  was 
that  future,  unknown  home  for  whose  peace 
and  security  she  was  beginning  to  pine.  What 
new  happiness  beckoned  her  out  of  the  golden 
rifts  ?  What  sorrows  lay  ambushed  where  the 
gray  shadows  lurked  and  the  gold  had  turned 


26  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

to  lead  ?  Was  love  waiting  there  for  her,  or— 
or  was  it  here  upon  the  ship,  travelling  with 
her  to  that  far-off  shore  ?  A  step  behind  broke 
the  thread  of  her  re  very,  and  Arthur  Seton 
said  in  her  ear: 

'Tis  good  to  see  you  on  deck,  Mistress 
Judith ;  methinks  the  sunshine  of  your  face  will 
dispel  the  clouds  and  bring  us  fair  weather.  " 

"If  that  were  the  case,  I  should  have  been 
lashed  to  the  mast  these  three  days  past  as 
a  species  of  scarecrow  for  the  storm,"  she 
laughed;  then  added  with  a  shudder:  "What 
a  season  of  misery  these  days  have  been. " 

"Truly  they  have,"  he  answered,  his  elbow 
on  the  rail  beside  hers.  "There  was  in  that 
time  but  one  rag  of  comfort  for  me." 

"And  that  was ?" 

"The  thought  that  if  the  ship  went  down, 
\ve  should  die  together." 

"Truly,  you  took  strange  comfort  to  your 
self — the  thought  of  my  death  ! ' ' 

"Nay;  you  know  what  I  mean — that  since 
we  must  die,  it  were  a  joy  to  perish  with  you. " 

What  was  it  in  his  voice,  when  they  were 
alone,  that  brought  the  colour  to  her  cheeks  in 
a  swift  rush  of  rose  ?  She  did  not  answer  now, 
but  turned  her  eyes  over  the  sea.  Far  off 
against  the  saffron  sunset  there  floated  a  tiny 


On  the  High  Seas  27 

black  speck,  gradually  growing  in  size  as  it 
came  nearer.  She  pointed  to  it  questioningly, 
yet  with  a  certain  tremulousness,  it  seemed 
so  pathetically  alone. 

"A  gull  or  a  petrel, "  Arthur  said,  "probably 
blown  out  to  sea  from  some  island  by  the  storm. 
How  wearily  it  flies." 

They  watched  it  silently  as  it  came  slowly 
nearer,  dropping  every  moment  closer  to  the 
water.  It  was  evidently  making  for  the  ship, 
but  the  feeble  motion  of  its  wings  showed  how 
near  it  was  to  utter  exhaustion.  How  many 
hours  and  days  it  had  drifted  forlornly  above 
that  world  of  waters  and  found  no  resting  place, 
how  despairingly  its  longing  eyes  had  searched 
the  waves  for  a  foot  of  land,  a  bit  of  driftwood 
on  which  to  rest  but  a  moment,  no  one 
might  know.  Parched  with  thirst,  starved  and 
weary,  it  plucked  up  its  small  remnant  of 
strength  to  reach  the  haven  here  in  sight. 

Watching  the  brave  struggle,  Judith  leaned 
over  the  rail  with  outstretched  arms.  "Brave 
bird,  brave  bird  !  Like  us,  it  is  an  exile,  a 
wanderer  on  the  deep.  Ah,  if  the  ship  would 
but  go  a  little  faster  to  meet  it  on  the  way  !" 

But  the  tired  wings  were  failing,  the  tiny  body 
falling  momentarily  nearer  the  water;  already 
were  the  breast  feathers  wet  with  the  leaping 


28  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

waves.  For  a  few  moments  more  it  fluttered 
along  on  the  surface  of  the  sea;  raised  itself 
with  a  last  effort,  but  with  a  despairing  note 
fell  back  into  the  waiting  abyss  and  disap 
peared. 

"  Within  thirty  feet  of  a  refuge, "  cried  Seton. 
"Jove,  but  that  was  hard  !" 

Judith  was  silent,  a  strange  shiver  passing 
over  her ;  was  it  a  forerunner  of  evil,  a  premoni 
tion  of  sorrow  to  come  to  her  in  this  new  life,  or 
was  it  but  a  tremor  of  nerves  long  overstrained  ? 

While  they  watched  that  little  tragedy  the 
sunset  faded;  above  their  heads  was  a  wide 
cleft  in  the  clouds,  and  soon  the  blue  beyond 
was  sown  thick  with  milk-white  stars.  The 
less  timid  of  the  company  in  the  cabin  began  to 
venture  forth,  glad  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  and 
to  exercise  their  legs  in  a  brisk  promenade. 
There  were  sly  glances  exchanged  when  Judith 
and  Arthur  were  discovered,  for  gossip  was 
already  weaving  a  romance  about  these  two. 

1  'Twill  be  a  match,"  said  one  dame  oracu 
larly.  "When  bonny  Prince  Charlie  sends  for 
us  all  to  come  home,  Seton  Manor  will  be  having 
a  new  mistress,  I  am  thinking." 

"Not  if  her  father  can  gainsay  her." 

"  True ;  but  Judith  Gary,  for  all  her  slim  looks, 
has  a  spirit  of  her  own.  Watch  her  eyes  and 


On  the  High, Seas  29 

you  will  see  in  them  sometimes  the  same  steel- 
blue  gleams  that  mark  Sir  Thomas's.  She 
comes  of  fighting  stock,  and  she'll  follow  her 
heart  and  not  her  father's  pointing  finger  when 
she  gets  ready  for  a  husband." 

"  I  am  not  of  your  mind  in  the  matter,  Lady 
Ludlow;  Mistress  Judith  cares  but  little  more 
for  Captain  Seton  than  does  her  father.  Mark 
you  how  she  mocks  and  teases  him?" 

"Aye, "  replied  her  ladyship,  "but  mark  you 
how  she  also  blushes  ?  When  a  lass  mocks  a 
man  and  changes  colour  the  while,  'tis  a  bad 
sign  for  her  heart." 

But  Judith,  unconscious  of  the  gossip,  kept 
her  place,  listening  to  the  young  Cavalier's  low 
voice,  and  watching  the  slanting  moonlight  cut 
a  great  swath  of  silver  through  the  gathering 
night. 


CHAPTER   III. 

A  NEW  STRAND  IN  THE  ROMANCE. 

"  For  a  romance  is  as  a  bit  of  tapestry, 
woven  of  many  colored  threads." 

— ANON. 

T  AND  at  last,  the  sweet  Virginia  country 
•*— '  draped  in  the  tender  beauty  of  the 
failing  March;  and  the  voyagers  of  the 
Tigress  feasted  their  eyes  upon  the  changing 
panorama.  The  willows  by  the  river  had  lost 
their  gray  tones,  and  waved  a  myriad  golden 
wands  in  the  flickering  sunlight ;  the  brown  of 
the  winter  landscape  was  mottled  with  tender 
green,  broken  here  and  there  by  a  flash  of 
scarlet  where  some  ;young  maple  hung  out  its 
vivid  keys,  or  by  the  azure  gleam  of  bluettes 
that  made  a  carpet  over  a  sunny  mound ;  and 
down  the  dim  forest  aisles  was  that  mist  of  light 
that  was  not  gray  nor  wholly  green,  but  that 
soft  blending  of  the  two  which  comes  from  the 
union  of  winter  boughs  and  bursting  buds. 
Along  the  James,  patches  of  civilization  amid 
the  untrammeled  wilderness,  were  the  settle- 
So 


A  New  Strand  in  the  Romance  31 

ments  of  the  English.  At  each  of  these  the 
ship  lost  one  or  more  of  its  passengers.  There 
were  handshakings  and  promises  of  future 
friendship  at  the  rail;  and  behind  casks  and 
bales  of  goods  and  in  the  deep-reaching  shadows 
there  were  stolen  kisses  with  the  farewells;  for 
Cupid,  as  staunch  a  Cavalier  as  any  of  them, 
had  taken  secret  passage  on  the  Tigress,  dis 
closing  himself  only  to  a  few  who  had  lingered 
on  the  deck  when  the  sea  ran  murmurously  to 
wind  call  or  star  shine. 

At  Jamestown  the  ship  dropped  her  anchor 
to  go  no  farther.  The  wharves  swarmed  with 
people,  come  down  to  see  the  landing,  for  a 
swift  rider  from  a  lower  settlement  had  brought 
tidings  of  the  arrival.  Letters,  weeks  before, 
had  told  of  the  ship's  coming  and  its  probable 
passengers ;  and  the  hospitable  heart  of  Virginia 
waited  there  beside  the  water  for  this  first 
flight  of  Cavaliers  who  came,  gay  with  plume 
and  powder  and  patch,  to  inject  a  new  element 
into  the  Colonies.  It  was  a  glad  greeting  they 
received,  for  all  Virginia  had  shuddered  at  the 
tragedy  at  Whitehall,  and,  regardless  of  former 
political  convictions,  held  out  its  hands  to  those 
who  had  upheld  the  banner  of  the  "late  sainted 
king." 

Because  of   her  draught  the   ship   anchored 


32  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

amid  stream,  and  immediately  a  swarm  of 
small  boats  surrounded  her,  taking  the  passen 
gers  away  to  their  waiting  friends.  In  vain 
Sir  Thomas,  leaning  over  the  side,  scanned  the 
shore  and  the  faces  of  the  new  comers  as  they 
clambered  on  deck,  but  half  an  hour  passed  and 
his  search  was  in  vain. 

"Fetch  your  cloak  and  bag,  Judy;  we  will 
hire  a  boat  and  go  ashore,"  he  said,  disappoint 
ment  in  his  voice. 

"There,  father,  be  not  so  disconsolate.  Our 
cousins  live  several  miles  up  the  river,  and  no 
doubt  have  not  yet  heard  of  the  ship's  arrival. 
You  did  not  surely  expect  Cousin  Laurence  to 
sit  here  on  the  bank  and  watch  for  us,"  said 
Judith,  who  stood  a  little  apart  with  Arthur 
Seton  at  her  elbow.  But  even  as  she  spoke,  a 
canoe  moved  from  under  the  ship's  bows  and 
took  its  place  at  the  big  hawser  swinging  from 
the  side.  An  African  slave  held  the  paddles, 
but  the  man  in  the  stern  was  a  broad-shouldered 
Englishman.  Judith  looked  at  him,  half- 
doubtful,  half  smiling,  then  drew  her  father's 
attention  with  her  pointing  finger. 

"Laurence,  Laurence  !"  shouted  Sir  Thomas. 
But  the  man  had  already  swung  himself  aboard, 
and  a  minute  later  he  was  striding  down  the  deck 
to  meet  Sir  Thomas,  whose  hand  he  wrung  in 


A  New  Strand  in  the  Romance  33 

vehement  welcome,  the  while  his  eyes  traveled 
beyond  the  old  man  in  eager  quest,  lighting  up 
with  radiant  pleasure  at  sight  of  the  young 
woman  beside  the  rail,  a  rare  figure  in  her  dark 
gown  with  its  white  silk  slashings. 

"Judy! — can  it  indeed  be  little  Judy?" 

She  smiled,  stretching  out  her  hands.  "Not 
little  Judy,  but  a  grown-up  Judith,  come  here 
to  claim  your  hospitality  as  she  erstwhile 
claimed  your  Christmas  cakes  and  sweets." 

"And  right  royally  welcome  shall  she  be  now 
as  then,"  he  answered,  saluting  her  hand  with 
his  lips  and  forgetting  to  let  it  go  again  while 
his  eyes  moved  over  her,  taking  in  the  changes 
of  ten  years. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  promise  not  to  eat  all  your  sugar 
plums,  as  I  fear  was  my  selfish  habit  of  old," 
she  said  saucily. 

"All  the  sweets  of  the  world  were  not  more 
than  your  merit,  fair  cousin.  " 

Sir  Thomas  clapped  him  upon  the  back. 
' '  Good  !  You  have  not  forgotten  your  manners 
in  this  wild  country,  Laurence." 

"Nay,  sir,  I  fear  my  cousin  will  find  us  but 
rough  folk  here;  we  have  lived  so  long  close 
neighbours  to  savages. " 

"Methinks  I  shall  forgive  you  everything  so 
you  be  not  savage  enough  to  grind  my  bones  to 
make  vour  bread. " 


34  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

He  laughed.  "Not  even  a  cannibal  would 
have  heart  for  such  a  deed,  having  once  looked 
upon  you. " 

He  had  not  more  than  glanced  at  Arthur 
Seton,  who  stood  near  Judith,  but  Sir  Thomas 
at  this  moment  remembered  his  own  manners 
and  presented  the  two  men. 

"Amos  Randal's  cousin;  he  told  me  of  you. 
You  will  find  him  waiting  on  the  wharf," 
Laurence  said,  stretching  out  his  hand  hos 
pitably. 

"Tis  good  to  find  one's  self  expected," 
Seton  answered. 

"Virginia  has  a  welcome  for  every  adherent 
of  King  Charles,"  Laurence  answered;  then 
wondered  to  himself  why  he  instantly  disliked 
this  particular  one  of  his  majesty's  subjects. 

Judith  looked  at  them  as  they  stood  together. 
Both  were  fair-haired  and  clean  shaven,  and 
both  were  something  above  medium  height. 
But  Laurence's  eyes  were  darker,  and  he  had 
the  advantage  in  weight,  being  well  knit  and 
broad  shouldered,  with  that  freedom  of  move 
ment  which  comes  of  much  exercise  in  the  open 
air.  Seton  was  younger  by  several  years. 
He  was  exceedingly  slender  in  build,  and  de 
liberate  in  his  motions,  with  such  a  voice  and 
look  and  manner  as  have  ever  played  havoc 


A  New  Strand  in  the  Romance  35 

with  women's  hearts.  His  long  locks  were 
curled  and  scented  after  the  fashion  of  the 
day,  and  his  dress  was  fastidious  and  tasteful; 
while  the  costume  of  the  other  was  plain  and 
unassuming. 

"Sir  Thomas,"  Laurence  said  presently, 
"my  canoe  is  below;  if  my  cousin  is  sailor 
enough  to  trust  herself  to  such  a  craft,  we  will 
land  at  once  and  not  wait  for  the  ship's  long 
boat.  My  servant  will  return  for  your  luggage.  " 

So  Judith  fetched  her  reticule,  and  they 
crossed  the  deck.  Before  descending  Laurence 
turned  again  to  Seton.  "  I  would  I  had  a  place 
to  offer  you,  Captain  Seton,  but  my  boat  carries 
but  four.  My  house  is  scarce  a  league  from 
the  Randals' ;  I  trust  you  will  sometimes  pay 
us  the  honour  of  a  visit." 

Then  while  Seton  was  speaking  his  thanks  he 
slipped  down  to  the  boat  and  stood  waiting  for 
his  kinsmen,  who  were  carefully  lowered  by  the 
sailors.  When  they  were  seated  he  nodded  to 
the  negro,  and  the  little  craft  shot  out  from 
under  the  shadow  of  the  vessel  and  took  its  way 
past  the  town  up  the  river.  Laurence  had 
disposed  of  them  as  it  pleased  him ;  Sir  Thomas 
sat  in  the  bow,  the  negro  was  amidship  with 
the  paddles,  Judith  was  in  the  stern,  while  he 
sat  so  as  to  face  her. 


36  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"  Tis  scarce  two  miles  to  my  landing,"  he 
said,  as  he  drew  a  rug  over  her  dress  to  protect 
her  from  possible  drops  from  the  paddles,  "and 
it  seemed  better  to  make  the  journey  by  boat 
rather  than  in  my  mother's  coach,  for  our  roads 
are  none  the  smoothest.  " 

Judith  did  not  reply;  she  was  waving  to 
Seton,  who,  high  on  the  poop  of  the  vessel,  was 
signalling  his  farewell  with  his  plumed  hat. 
When  she  turned  back  to  Laurence  there  was  a 
wonderful  light  in  her  eyes,  which  made  him 
turn  his  own  questioningly  toward  the  man 
behind. 

"We  are  glad  to  go  with  you  in  any  wise," 
she  answered  him.  "  But  tell  me,  cousin,  how 
chanced  it  you  came  to  the  wharf  to-day  in 
time  for  our  landing?" 

"  I  had  your  father's  letter  this  week  past, 
and  knew  you  could  not  be  very  far  behind, 
since  he  said  you  sailed  at  once.  So  I  have 
come  to  the  settlement  every  day  since,  hoping 
to  see  a  new  sail  on  the  horizon. " 

"You  must  have  lost  much  time  from  your 
affairs — that  is,  if  people  in  America  have  af 
fairs. " 

"  If  by  affairs  you  mean  work,  we  have  more 
here  than  in  England,  "  he  said,  smiling.  "  But 
believe  me,  there  is  nothing  I  would  not  have 


A  New  Strand  in  the  Romance  37 

put  aside  to  meet  you,  so  happy  was  I  in  the 
thought  of  your  coming.  In  truth,"  he  con 
tinued,  with  a  whimsical  laugh,  "methinks  I 
was  not  half  sorry  for  the  king's  death  since 
'twas  the  occasion  of  sending  you  to  America. 
I  will  confess,  sweet  cousin,  that  I  have  shed 
no  tear  over  that  royal  tragedy  because  of  its 
happy  consequences  to  myself." 

She  leaned  sidewise  so  as  to  look  past  him. 
"Father,"  she  cried,  "you  should  hear  the 
treasonable  things  our  kinsman  is  saying.  I 
fear  he  is  no  Cavalier  after  all,  and  that  we  have 
but  fallen  into  a  trap  which  may  send  us  again 
to  England  to  Cromwell's  bloodhounds.  Think 
of  it,  he  has  shed  no  tear  for  King  Charles  !" 

"Tut,  tut,  Judy,  I  know  your  teasing  tongue," 
answered  Sir  Thomas,  and  took  no  further  heed 
while  the  gay  chatter  of  the  others  went  on. 

Presently  the  canoe  drew  inshore  to  a  tiny 
boat-house,  and  Laurence  exclaimed:  "Look, 
Sir  Thomas;  look,  Judith— there  is  Rivermead, 
my  home,  and  yours  as  long  as  you  will  bide 
there." 

High  on  a  knoll  sloping  riverward  stood  the 
great  house,  built  ten  years  before  of  English 
brick,  and  mantled  now  with  ivy  and  Virginia 
creeper.  In  those  days  a  man  built,  not  for  his 
children  only,  but  for  his  children's  children; 


38  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

and  so  massive  were  the  walls  of  Rivermead 
that  the  wear  of  a  century  might  but  mellow 
their  tones  and  round  their  angles  without 
lessening  their  strength.  Sir  Thomas's  eyes 
brightened  as  he  looked. 

"  Why,  Laurence,  I  had  no  thought  there  was 
anything  so  English  in  America." 

"We  brought  our  national  tastes  with  us, 
and  those  who  could  afford  to  import  the  right 
materials  have  reproduced  in  a  measure  their 
homes  across  the  sea.  You  will  find  the  interior 
of  Rivermead  not  unlike  our  former  home  in 
Essex,  there  being  a  goodly  part  of  the  same 
furniture  we  used  there.  " 

From  the  boat-house  the  two  men  walked 
slowly  up  the  maple-bordered  avenue,  dis 
cussing  as  they  went  the  serious  side  of  English 
politics.  But  Judith,  like  a  bird  set  free,  went 
on  ahead,  crying  out  her  delight  over  the  purple 
violets  and  pale  primroses  a-bloom  amid  the 
drifts  of  last  year's  leaves.  Coming  back  to 
them  with  her  hands  brimmed  with  the  blos 
soms  and  her  eyes  full  of  starry  lights,  she  was 
so  sweet  to  look  upon  that  Laurence  instinc 
tively  took  off  his  hat,  and  Sir  Thomas  stooped 
and  kissed  her  cheek. 

"A  typical  Cavalier  maid,  "  he  said.  "  Prince 
Charles  lost  his  fairest  subject  when  you  quitted 
English  shores." 


A  New  Strand  in  the  Romance  39 

"Nay,"  she  answered,  "since  Virginia  is 
loyal  I  am  as  much  his  subject  here  as  ever ;  and 
when  the  prince  comes  to  his  own  we  are  going 
back  to  help  him  manage  his  kingdom." 

"Then  am  I  minded  to  make  the  Stuart  a 
very  bad  wish,"  said  Laurence. 

"That  has  a  most  disloyal  sound;  but  for  its 
personal  generosity  I  will  give  you  this,"  and 
she  reached  up  and  fastened  a  big  purple  violet 
in  his  coat. 

His  hand  covered  hers  a  moment  on  his 
breast:  "Little  Judy  here  in  Virginia!  '  Tis 
scarcely  belie veable. " 

On  the  porch  Mistress  Falkner,  the  same 
severe  figure  Judith  remembered  of  old,  stood 
to  greet  them,  but  her  eyes  softened  as  Judith 
reached  up  and  left  a  kiss  on  either  thin  cheek. 

"Cousin  Janet,  I  am  a  grown  girl  now,  and 
will  not  make  any  litter  in  your  halls  nor  break 
your  platters  and  lose  your  spectacles  as  I  did 
at  Cotslea, "  she  said,  referring  to  those  other 
days  when  she  had  been  a  species  of  nightmare 
to  Mistress  Falkner's  ideas  of  propriety. 

"Is  she  always  so  fragile  looking?"  Laurence 
asked  apprehensively  of  Sir  Thomas,  as  she 
went  with  his  mother  up  the  wide  stair. 

"She  is  never  robust,  but  she  is  seldom  ill. 
We  think  she  will  do  well  enough  unless,  indeed, 


40  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

there  should  come  some  sudden  shock  or  grief 
to  weight  her  mind.  " 

Long  afterwards  Laurence  recalled  the  grave 
words ;  but  just  then  a  ripple  of  girlish  laughter 
so  unusual  in  the  great  house  came  from  the 
upper  story;  and  in  the  pleasure  of  it  he  forgot 
the  fleeting  anxiety  the  words  raised.  What 
sorrow  could  come  to  her  here  under  his  roof, 
with  so  many  watchful  eyes  to  guard  her? 
He  looked  up  the  stair  with  impatient  expect 
ance. 

A  new  and  vivid  element  had  entered  the 
quiet  life  at  Rivermead,  for  Judy,  little  Judy, 
the  Cavalier  maid,  had  come  to  Virginia  to 
make  her  home. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  CROSSING  OP  THE  THREADS. 

"  Busily,  ceaselessly  goes  the  loom 

In  the  light  of  day  and  the  midnight's  gloom; 
And  the  wheels  are  turning  early  and  late, 
And  the  woof  is  wound  in  the  warp  of  fate.    ." 

— ANON. 

IVERMEAD,  with  its  indentured  ser- 
vants,  its  black  slaves,  its  Indian 
hunters  and  trappers,  was  a  colony  with 
in  itself,  a  little  government  of  which  the 
brick  manor  house  was  the  capitol.  That  there 
were  no  near  neighbours  occasioned  Judith  no 
disappointment,  for  this  custom  of  the  wealthier 
planters  in  shunning  the  settlements  and  living 
upon  their  estates  was  much  like  the  country 
life  of  the  English  gentry  to  which  she  was  ac 
customed.  Already  was  there  a  landed  aris 
tocracy  in  Virginia  which  this  new  Cavalier 
element  was  to  augment  and  strengthen.  For 
this  was  the  Virginia,  not  of  the  primitive 
plantation  time,  nor  yet  of  the  days  of  Wyatt  or 
Yeardly;  but  the  Virginia  of  Berkeley,  the 
courtier  of  (<  Greenspring, "  the  scholar,  the 


42  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

aristocrat,  whose  hospitality  was  proverbial, 
whose  courtly  bearing  was  the  admiration  of 
women,  and  whose  strong  hand,  in  its  silken 
glove,  held  the  reins  of  government  with  never 
a  slip. 

But  Judith  was  full  of  curiosity  concerning 
the  indentured  servants  \vho  did  the  drudgery 
of  the  house,  and  the  slaves  who  tilled  the  fields. 
For  the  former  there  was  the  surety  of  emanci 
pation  when  the  terms  of  indenture  should  be 
filled;  they  might  take  their  places  among  the 
free  and  self-reliant  men  of  the  colony,  their 
sons  might  even  rise  to  the  level  of  the  bur 
gesses  if  fortune  favoured  them.  But  for  the 
blacks  there  was  no  hope.  For  them  there  was 
no  social  uplifting,  and  the  untrammeled 
freedom  of  the  desert  and  the  wild  air  of  the 
jungle  were  gone  forever.  Cruel  cupidity  it 
was  that  opened  to  the  slaver  the  ports  of  the 
colonies;  and  blind  logic  which  lulled  to  rest, 
with  the  song  of  present  gain,  the  menace  of 
the  future.  Already  the  Afric  faces  made  a 
shadow  in  the  land,  a  shadow  that  would 
widen  and  deepen  until  upon  its  edges  would 
lie  the  crimson  trail  of  war. 

"  Why  do  they  look  so  often  back  toward  the 
sun?"  Judith  asked,  as  she  and  Laurence  drew 
rein  on  an  eminence  that  overlooked  the  tobacco 
fields  where  the  slaves  were  at  work. 


The  Crossing  of  the  Threads  43 

"  They  are  gauging  the  time  before  the  dinner 
horn  shall  blow,"  he  answered  lightly. 

But  she  shook  her  head.  "  I  believe  it  is  be 
cause  the  sun  has  come  up  from  their  native 
land ;  and  in  their  hearts  is  a  passionate  wonder 
as  to  what  he  saw  there — their  lost  homes  and 
hunting  grounds  and  loved  ones.  " 

Of  these  black  slaves  she  had  no  fear.  They 
were  mostly  good-natured  or  stolid ;  only  a  few 
seemed  fierce  or  vicious.  But  of  the  Indian 
hunters  who  brought  fish  or  game  to  the 
kitchen  door,  she  stood  in  unutterable  dread. 
In  vain  Laurence,  to  reassure  her,  told  her  of 
the  treaty  made  five  years  before,  after  the 
defeat  and  death  of  the  great  Indian  emperor, 
Opechancanough. 

"Their  strength  is  broken  for  good,"  he  said 
convincingly.  "  Each  year  at  the  'going  of  the 
geese'  they  carry  their  tribute  of  beaver  skins 
to  the  Governor  at  Greenspring,  and  all  is  well. '' 

But  Judith  had  heard  the  tales  of  tomahawk 
and  scalping  knife,  and  she  drew  her  horse  very 
close  to  his  when,  in  their  daily  rides,  they 
passed  one  of  the  silent,  copper-colored 
hunters.  And  with  a  pleased  sense  of  her  de 
pendence,  he  would  put  out  his  hand  and  touch 
her  bridle  or  her  arm ,  letting  her  feel  the  surety 
of  his  protection,  She  was  his  constant  com- 


44  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

panion;  he  explored  with  her  the  plantation 
and  the  house,  rowed  her  upon  the  river,  or 
read  to  her  in  the  library  while  she  made  pre 
tense  at  knitting  or  embroidery.  It  was  the 
old  days  at  Cotslea  come  back,  he  told  himself, 
only  there  were  books  and  horses  and  dogs  in 
place  of  dolls  and  shuttlecocks;  and  her  prim 
pinafores  were  replaced  by  lace  tuckers  and 
dainty  aprons  of  silk  that  had  no  ugly  sleeves 
to  hide  her  white  arms.  The  first  flowers  were 
gathered  for  her,  the  best  horse  in  his  stable 
was  set  aside  for  her  use,  and  the  snowiest  cur 
tains  in  Tony  Foster's  warehouse  were  pur 
chased  for  her  room. 

"Lissa's  right;  she's  as  good  to  look  at  as  a 
bunch  of  apple  blooms,"  Tony  said,  hobbling 
to  the  door  on  his  stick  to  look  after  them  as 
they  rode  away  after  selecting  the  curtains.  "  I 
wish  for  Laurence's  sake  she  had  a  wart  on  her 
face  or  was  cross-eyed;  ugly  women  are  apt 
to  be  comfortable  in  their  tempers;  it's  your 
pretty  ones  that  dice  with  the  Devil  for  a  man's 
happiness  and  peace.  "  For  Tony  was  a  hater 
of  women — at  least  his  gibing  tongue  lost  no 
opportunity  to  stab  them:  but  whether  this 
was  because  some  one  of  the  sex  had  once 
thrown  him  back  his  heart,  or  because  he  felt 
that,  because  of  his  lameness,  none  of  them 


The  Crossing  of  the  Threads  45 

would  ever  regard  him  with  anything  but  pity, 
no  one  knew. 

Those  were  happy  days  at  Rivermead,  for 
Sir  Thomas  had  no  rebuke  for  Judith  for  taking 
up  Laurence's  time,  as  he  had  had  for  her 
concerning  Seton  during  those  days  of  sea  voy 
age  ;  rather  did  he  leave  them  together,  passing 
his  own  hours  over  a  book,  or  challenging 
Mistress  Falkner  to  a  game  of  backgammon. 
But  Laurence  was  not  to  have  Judith  very 
long  to  himself,  for  one  morning  there  came 
riding  down  the  avenue  Arthur  Seton  and 
Amos  Randal;  and  in  their  company  came 
Amos's  handsome,  black-eyed  sister  Ann. 
Judith  had  known  that  Arthur  would  come — 
had  even  looked  sometimes  from  her  window, 
wondering  which  would  be  his  road;  but  she 
met  him  with  such  quiet  dignity  that  her 
father,  who  was  watching  her,  was  deceived, 
and  was  so  cordial  that  the  young  man  ven 
tured  to  hope  his  aversion  was  at  an  end  ; 
and  he  whispered  this  hope  to  Judith  while  the 
others  walked  in  front  of  them  in  the  flower 
garden  where  the  crocuses  and  blue-bottles 
were  passing  to  make  way  for  the  coming  pro 
cession  of  lilac  and  syringa  and  blue  flags. 

"My  cousin  Seton  has  been  telling  us  much 
of  you, "  Ann  said  over  her  shoulder  to  Judith. 


46  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"  If  half  he  says  be  true,  methinks  we  owe  those 
dreadful  Roundheads  something  of  gratitude 
for  sending  you  to  us." 

"We  owe  them  so  much,  Mistress  Ann,  that 
we  can  afford  to  forgive  them  everything  else, " 
Laurence  answered  for  Judith. 

"Everything?  Those  are  Roundhead  senti 
ments,  sir;  and  if  they  get  to  Greenspring,  his 
Excellency's  bow  will  not  be  quite  so  low  when 
next  we  go  to  dance  a  minuet  in  his  parlours.  " 

"I  shall  feel  quite  sure  of  clemency  when 
once  he  has  seen  my  cousin,"  Laurence  said; 
and  Ann's  black  eyes  flashed  over  him  ques- 
tioningly. 

After  that  morning  there  were  often  four 
horses  cantering  down  the  forest  roads  or  river 
paths,  for  Ann  and  Arthur  were  frequently  at 
Rivermead,  and  Laurence  and  Judith  went 
as  often  to  return  their  visits.  But  there  were 
other  times  when  Arthur  came  alone — drowsy, 
dreamy  afternoons  and  moonlight  nights  when 
the  wind  was  soft  and  the  whippoorwills 
called  each  other  through  the  scented  dusk. 
At  such  times  he  and  she  strolled  up  and  down 
the  garden  under  Cousin  Janet's  window,  and 
were  as  merry  as  two  children,  trying  their 
fortunes  with  the  gossamer  dandelion  seed ;  or, 
if  it  was  night,  they  talked  in  the  shadow  of 


The  Crossing  of  the  Threads  47 

the  library  curtain  while  her  father  and  Lau 
rence  played  chess  across  the  room  under  the 
mantel  candelabra.  And  Laurence  was  absent- 
minded  and  careless ;  and  Sir  Thomas  lost  his 
temper  and  his  game,  and  grew  fretful  and  ap 
prehensive;  for  after  a  visit  like  that  Judith 
always  went  to  her  room  singing  one  of  the 
tender  love  songs  she  had  brought  from  Cotslea. 

"Why  should  your  father  so  dislike  me?" 
Seton  asked  once,  after  a  particularly  cold  re 
ception  from  Sir  Thomas. 

"I  cannot  say;  unless,  indeed,  he  thinks  that 
you  should  have  stayed  in  England  to  help  the 
prince.  He — in  fact,  we  both  feel  that  his 
majesty  has  need  of  every  strong  arm  in  the 
realm." 

"  I  am  not  the  only  soldier  who  came  to 
America. " 

"The  others  share  his  disapprobation.  "  But 
Seton  knew  that  on  .him  fell  the  full  force  of 
the  old  man's  displeasure. 

Other  neighbours  besides  the  Randals  came 
on  horseback  or  in  sloops  upon  the  river  to 
meet  the  new  inmates  of  Rivermead.  Newton, 
homesick  for  his  old  comrade,  found  his  way 
thither  from  Henrico,  and  was  boyishly  jealous 
of  Arthur  and  Amos. 

"  Why  do  you  let  them  come  here  so  often  ? " 


48  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

he  demanded  fretfully  of  Laurence,  to  whom 
he  had  carried  his  dissatisfaction. 

"Why  should  they  not  come  here?  My 
cousin's  friends  must  be  my  welcome  guests." 
But  he  knew  that  the  happy  days  were  those 
when  he  and  Judith  rode  alone. 

From  Jamestown  and  Williamsburg  and 
the  adjacent  plantations  the  new  friends  came ; 
Lady  Ludlow,  mindful  of  the  time  when  she 
and  Janet  Falkner  had  learned  cross-stitch 
together,  arrived  with  her  maid  and  spent  a 
week;  and  one  day  Governor  Berkeley  came 
in  his  painted  coach  to  shake  hands  with  Sir 
Thomas  and  swear  at  Cromwell.  And  the 
two  vehement  old  Loyalists  poured  out  the 
vials  of  their  vituperation  upon  the  "murderers 
of  the  king  and  the  enemies  of  the  prince," 
and  washed  away  the  bitter  taste  of  their 
words  with  bumpers  of  Laurence's  wine  or 
Mistress  Falkner's  home-brewed  ale.  There 
was  plenty  of  company  and  stir  in  those  first 
days,  so  that  the  exiles  had  no  time  to  pine 
for  their  lost  home. 

From  these  guests  who  came  and  went, 
Judith  soon  learned  that  Ann  Randal  was 
the  prospective  mistress  of  Rivermead,  the 
wife  long  desired  by  Mistress  Falkner  for  her 
son;  and  with  a  feminine  fancy  for  match- 


The  Crossing  of  the  Threads  49 

making  she  set  herself  to  forward  her  cousin's 
designs.  Of  all  unions  it  seemed  the  most 
natural;  the  intimacy  of  the  two  families  who 
had  emigrated  together  and  the  proximity  of 
their  estates  rendering  it  exceedingly  appro 
priate.  Just  why  it  had  never  been  consum 
mated  no  one  understood ;  but  it  was  a  foregone 
conclusion  that  it  would  eventually  come  to 
pass.  Therefore  Judith  praised  Ann's  beauty 
and  sprightliness,  and  commented  hopefully  on 
her  housewifely  qualities.  And  Laurence 
listened  and  agreed ;  but  when  she  would  have 
teased  him  concerning  the  state  of  his  heart, 
he  laughed  with  such  an  air  of  disclaimer  that 
she  was  sorely  puzzled. 

"  You  treat  Ann  so  queerly, "  she  said  to  him 
once  as  they  came  up  the  avenue  after  an  hour 
on  the  river  in  Amos  Randal's  boat. 

"Queerly?  Why,  Ann  and  I  are  the  best  of 
friends. " 

"Methinks  I  should  not  like  so  friendly  a 
lover." 

"Not  like  a  friendly  lover,  Judy?  One 
would  think  you  were  a  scold  and  wanted 
always  to  quarrel,"  he  said  quizzingly. 

"Nay,  you  know  what  I  mean.  A  woman 
to  be  rightly  won  must  be  wooed  with  some 
thing  more  earnest,  more  convincing  than 


50  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

empty  compliments.  Yes,  I  had  even  rather 
my  lover  were  sometimes  angry  with  me  than 
to  treat  me  always  like  that." 

"Other  women  may  not  be  of  your  mind," 
he  said,  still  teasing.  "  At  any  rate  Ann  is  well 
satisfied  with  my  'empty  compliments.'  Do 
not  let  my  mother  be  putting  idle  notions  in 
your  head;  for  our  pretty  neighbour  gives 
me  never  a  tender  thought. " 

"You  say  that  because  you  are  not  willing 
to  give  me  your  confidence.  Well,  I  was  wrong 
to  seek  it.  But  for  my  part,  I  should  not  like 
just  polite  speeches  from  my  sweetheart.  I  am 
glad  that— that— 

"That  Arthur  Seton  is  different?"  he  broke 
in. 

"No,  I  was  going  to  say  I  am  glad  you  are 
not  my  lover. " 

' '  And  how  do  you  know  that  I  am  not  ? ' ' 
The  words  seemed  to  say  themselves. 

She  put  back  her  head  and  laughed.  "  What 
an  absurd  question,  you  dear,  old  Laurie  !— 
why,  because  you  are  my  cousin,  and  Ann's 
lover. " 

"  But  suppose  that  I  were  yours,  Judy  ? " 

'Tis  not  supposable,"  she  answered;  but 
he  did  not  join  in  her  laugh,  and  somehow  she 
suddenly  stopped, 


The  Crossing  of  the  Threads  5 1 

She  did  not  tease  him  any  more,  but  she 
wondered  that  he  would  not  understand  Ann's 
assumption  of  indifference,  and  the  coquetry 
with  which  she  sometimes  treated  Arthur  and 
Newton  or  other  young  men  in  his  presence. 
It  was  but  a  mask  of  her  real  self,  of  course  > 
and  by  and  by  Laurence  must  surely  see  it. 
Perhaps  this  very  coquetry  was  the  secret 
cause  of  his  holding  back;  Ann  was  much 
given  to  such  conduct. 

One  day,  in  between  the  April  showers,  they 
all  went  to  return  the  Governor's  visit.  Sir 
Thomas  was  in  the  coach  with  Mistress  Falkner 
and  Lady  Ludlow,  but  the  young  people  went 
on  horseback.  They  had  a  charming  hour  at 
Greenspring ;  for  in  the  parlour  there  were  cakes 
and  tea  for  the  ladies,  topped  off  with  a  rare  bit 
of  gossip;  while  on  the  shaded  portico  Sir 
Thomas  and  his  Excellency  grew  more  abusive 
of  the  "brewer"  and  more  loyal  to  the  Stuart 
with  every  taste  of  mint -wreathed  julep.  On 
the  steps  at  parting  the  gentlemen  took  snuff 
together,  "tactfully  with  the  forefinger  and  the 
thumb,  which  is  the  friendly  pinch."  Then 
his  Excellency  saluted  the  hands  of  the  older 
women  and  the  cheeks  of  the  younger  ones, 
swearing  by  the  sparrows  of  Venus  that  he 
wished  himself  a  score  of  years  younger  that  he 


52  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

might  teach  these  bashful  lads  a  new  trick  in 
courtship.  And  then  amid  the  waving  of  lace 
handkerchiefs  and  cocked  hats,  the  little 
cavalcade  swept  down  the  drive  and  out  upon 
the  road  to  Jamestown. 

The  riders  soon  left  the  coach  behind,  and 
for  the  first  few  miles  there  w^ere  jests  and 
pleasant  comments  on  the  splendours  of  Green- 
spring  and  its  courtly  master.  But  when  they 
entered  the  forest  that  skirted  the  cultivated 
fields  of  Jamestown  they  fell  suddenly  silent, 
there  was  such  insistence  of  quiet  and  peace  in 
the  green  glooms  of  the  woodland.  The  earth, 
moist  from  a  recent  shower,  gave  back  no  thud 
of  hoofs,  so  that  a  young  girl,  who  had  been 
gathering  faggots  for  cooking,  did  not  hear  their 
approach  around  a  curve  of  the  road.  Newton, 
who  was  somewhat  in  advance  of  the  party, 
saw  her  first,  and  stopping  pointed  with  his 
whip.  Instinctively  they  all  drew  rein.  She 
had  dropped  her  bundle  of  sticks  and  was  sitting 
in  a  sinuous  loop  of  grapevine.  One  arm, 
from  which  the  torn  sleeve  fell  away,  was  lifted 
to  the  vine,  and  with  her  head  thrown  back 
she  was  whistling  to  a  mocking  bird  that  sat 
high  above  her  and  turned  his  bright  head 
sidewise  to  listen  to  the  clear  call.  Her  feet 
in  their  tattered  shoes  touched  the  ground 


The  Crossing  of  the  Threads  53 

lightly,  and  her  torn  dress  was  as  soberly 
brown  as  the  whirl  of  last  year's  leaves  it 
brushed  with  its  hem,  but  a  crimson  kerchief 
knotted  loosely  about  her  throat  gave  a  touch 
of  vivid  colour  to  her  whole  figure.  And  yet  it 
was  not  this  that  caught  and  held  the  eye; 
rather  was  it  the  beauty  of  her  dark  face  lit 
by  eyes  that  were  limpid  brown  pools  now 
while  she  whistled  back  the  bird  notes,  but 
which  had  a  touch  of  fierceness  in  them  when 
she  suddenly  turned  them  on  the  waiting 
group.  She  sprang  up,  gathered  the  ends 
of  the  kerchief  tightly  across  her  breast,  and 
faced  them  like  some  wild  creature  caught 
unawares.  Ann,  after  one  look,  struck  her 
horse  and  rode  on;  but  Judith  smiled  and 
cried : 

"You  out-whistled  the  bird  himself,  my 
pretty  woodland  elf.  See,  he  has  flown  away 
in  hopeless  envy." 

The  girl  smiled  back  without  taking  her  eyes 
from  the  speaker's  face. 

"You  are  far  from  home,  Lissa,"  Laurence 
said  kindly,  "and  the  day  is  nearly  gone." 

"Tony  will  come  to  meet  me,"  she  answered, 
still  looking  at  Judith,  and  then  scowling 
down  the  road  after  Ann. 

"Tony?  then  will  you  be    safe,"  and  touch- 


54  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

ing  Judith's  bridle  he  rode  on.  But  Seton 
lingered  a  moment  after  the  others  to  toss  the 
girl  a  coin  which  she  did  not  stoop  to  pick  up 
because,  unseen  of  the  others,  he  had  blown 
her  a  kiss  along  with  it. 

"Who  is  she?"   asked  Judith. 

"Lissa  Sutley,  a  poor  girl  whose  father  is 
both  drunkard  and  gambler." 

"And  her  mother?" 

"She  has  none." 

"Ah  !"  Looking  back  at  the  straight,  supple 
figure  beside  the  vine  she  thought  of  her  own 
motherless  girlhood,  and  sighed. 

And  so  under  the  overhanging  boughs,  in 
the  still  heart  of  the  forest,  had  met  and  parted 
the  three  women  who  were  to  typify  within 
themselves  the  alternating  phases,  the  height 
and  depth  of  the  master-passion  of  life. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    GHOST    OF    RIVERMEAD. 

"  They  gather  round  and  wonder  at  the  tale 
Of  horrid  apparition,  tall  and  ghostly, 
That  walks  at  dead  of  night. "_. 

— BLAIR 

TN  the  Southland,  April  days  are  the  fairest 
that  dawn,  for  they  have  neither  the 
sombreness  of  winter  nor  the  glare  of  sum 
mer.  Everywhere  the  gray  has  lightened 
into  green,  with  tell-tale  rose  tints  where 
the  orchards  spread  to  the  sun.  The  wind 
has  lost  its  winter  sob  and  shrill  March  whistle, 
and  sings  of  a  new  re-incarnation  to  the  awak 
ened  world.  There  is  a  sound  of  murmuring 
waters,  of  droning  bees  and  caressing  bird 
calls;  and  all  about  and  everywhere  is  the 
consciousness  of  growing,  creeping  things. 
The  sky  is  so  blue  that  it  would  be  out  of 
harmony  with  the  other  blended  hues,  ex 
cept  that  to  the  wide  canopy  there  is  ever  a 
ragged  edge  of  cloud  which  now  and  then  is 
blown  over  the  face  of  the  azure  arch  in  a 

55 


56  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

crystal-beaded  veil  that  makes  the  world 
beneath  -pregnant  with  moisture. 

During  those  marvellous  days  Mistress  Falk- 
ner's  face  wore  a  new  expression,  her  house 
wifely  pride  was  augmented  and  aroused,  for 
Rivermead,  where  so  late  a  sedate  old  woman 
and  a  bachelor  of  twenty-nine  passed  therT 
time  uneventfully,  was  now  become  the  Mecca 
of  many  visitors;  the  Cavalier  maid  had 
changed  the  dull  routine  and  filled  the  house 
with  the  intangible  witchery  of  her  presence. 
So  naturally  did  she  settle  into  her  place  in 
the  household  that  it  seemed  as  if  there  must 
have  always  been  a  niche  waiting  for  her, 
unconsciously  but  surely  waiting,  and  that 
she  had  but  rightfully  come  into  her  own. 
And  watching  her  as  the  weeks  passed,  Laur 
ence  wondered  vaguely  how  he  had  ever  en 
dured  the  loneliness  of  the  big  rooms  before 
she  came  to  change  the  shadows  into  sunshine. 

In  the  new  experiences  that  had  come  to 
her  Judith  had  not  forgotten  her  life  across 
the  sea.  Often  she  thought  of  her  brothers 
fighting  far  away  under  the  precarious  star 
of  the  Stuart,  and  of  Cotslea  with  its  closed 
shutters  and  air  of  desolation.  She  was  full 
of  gratitude  for  this  asylum  they  had  found 
here  in  the  west;  but  some  day,  she  told  New- 


The  Ghost  of  River  mead  57 

ton  and  Laurence,  some  clay  whose  dawn  was 
not  yet  gray  upon  the  mountains,  they  would 
go  back  to  the  house  on  the  cliff,  to  old  friends 
and  haunts  and  to  the  settle  with  its  mystic 
twilight  memories. 

"I  wish  wre  were  there  now — I  wish  we  had 
never  left  England,"  Newton  said,  his  pale 
face  wistful  with  the  unhappiness  that  cloyed 
him  when  he  thought  of  Arthur  Seton. 

After  his  long  life  of  political  and  military 
activity,  Sir  Thomas  suffered  mentally  from 
the  enforced  quiet.  But  with  a  resolution 
that  characterized  him  in  all  things  he  gave 
vent  to  his  excitement  only  when  there  was 
some  particularly  trying  news  from  England. 
At  other  times  he  strove  to  fasten  his  at 
tention  and  interest  on  the  new  features  of 
farm  life  about  him.  Those  who  answered 
his  question,  as  to  tobacco  culture  or  listened 
to  his  anecdotes  of  by-gone  campaigns  little 
dreamed  of  the  volcanic  fire  burning  beneath 
this  show  of  indifference.  Even  Judith,  who 
watched  him  always  with  such  tender  solici 
tude,  did  not  fully  realize  the  marvellous  self- 
control  of  the  choleric  old  man.  Only  in  the 
profanity  with  which  he  greeted  some  new 
story  of  Cromwell's  arrogance  did  he  betray 
the  restlessness  which  wore  upon  him  day 


58  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

by  day.  On  these  vehement  occasions  the 
coach  was  brought  out,  and  he  journeyed 
away  to  Greenspring  to  find  a  congenial  spirit 
to  share  his  anger,  and  a  vocabulary  that 
matched  his  own  wherein  to  denounce  the 
fate  that  had  clothed  a  "canting  commoner" 
with  the  purple  of  royalty. 

"I  will  go  to  Berkeley,"  he  would  say  fever 
ishly.  "I  shall  feel  better  when  I  have  heard 
him  swear  a  bit." 

On  one  of  these  unquiet  days  when  he  was 
with  the  Governor  and  Laurence  was  at  the 
warehouse  going  over  his  accounts  with  Tony 
Foster,  Ann  Randal  came  for  a  visit  to  Judith. 
As  she  rode  up  the  avenue  a  sudden  skurrying 
shower  dampened  her  skirts,  so  that  she  was 
hurried  at  once  to  Judith's  room  and  put  into 
a  short-gown  while  her  habit  was  dried  by 
the  kitchen  fire. 

"I  was  wishing  to  see  you,  Ann;  some  fairy 
must  have  carried  you  my  thought,"  Judith 
said,  tucking  a  cushion  behind  her  guest's 
head.— "Yes,  Matilda,  you  may  bring  us  a 
cup  of  tea,  and  then  go  on  with  your  work." 

"Well,  what  is  it  your  pleasure  to  ask  me?" 
Ann  said  from  the  sofa. 

"First  tell  me  something  of  Lissa  Sutley." 

"Oh,  there's  not  much  to  tell.     Her  beauty 


The  Ghost  of  Rivennead  59 

is  probably  her  greatest  affliction,  since  her 
father  uses  it  to  bait  his  gambling  den." 

"She  must  be  very  unhappy." 

"No,  I  expect  not;  girls  in  her  class  are  not 
generally  very  sensitive.  They  say  the  gam 
blers  fight  over  her,  as  to  whose  glass  she  shall 
fill ;  and  her  father  beats  her  when  he  is  drunk. 
Tony  Foster  befriends  her  greatly." 

"Poor  girl !" 

Ann  took  her  cup  from  Matilda  and  sipped 
her  tea  leisurely.  "If  you  so  much  wished 
to  see  me,  why  did  you  not  come  to  me?" 

"Oh,  because— 

"Because  Arthur  Seton  is  there?" 

Judith  changed  colour.  ' '  Partly ;  but  another 
reason  is  that  I  think  Laurence  would  like 
to  go  alone  sometimes,  that  he  may  have 
you  to  himself." 

Ann  laughed.  "You  are  most  considerate. 
Or  is  that  a  hint  that  I  need  not  come  so  often 
with  Arthur,  that  you  and  he  may  be  left  to 
yourselves?"  Judith's  untrained  ear  did  not 
recognize  an  underlying  jealousy  in  the  voice 
that  asked  this  question. 

"No,  that  was  not  my  meaning."  Then 
she  tossed  her  head  and  laughed:  "Besides, 
he  comes  here  often  without  you." 

"Does   he   indeed?"    Ann   said,    with   some- 


60  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

thing  of  surprise  in  her  voice.  "For  instance — • 
when  was  he  here  last?" 

"Yesterday  afternoon. — But  he  went  away 
quite  angry  with  me." 

"What  did  you  quarrel  about?" 

"Oh,  the  same  old  question — whether  it 
is  not  his  duty  to  be  fighting  for  the  king, 
rather  than  living  a  life  of  ease  here  in  Vir 
ginia  while  others  win  the  victory  by  which 
he  will  profit." 

The  girl  on  the  sofa  drained  her  cup  slowly. 
"It  would  have  a  better  look,  though  of  course, 
as  he  is  our  guest,  we  do  not  urge  him." 

"He  says,  on  the  contrary,  that  you  counsel 
him  not  to  return — sets  your  opinion  against 
mine,  bidding  me  observe  how  much  more 
careful  you  are  of  his  safety." 

"Yes,  I  did  say  he  should  remain — he 
seemed  so  to  wish  it,  and  he  is  in  my  house. 
But  perchance  it  would  be  better  for  us  all 
if  he  went."  She  spoke  with  a  curious  specu 
lative  tone  that  Judith  did  not  understand. 

"Better  for  us  all?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  evasive  answer,  "we  all 
have  interests  in  England  which  will  be 
lost  if  so  Charles's  followers  are  too  few  or 
too  faint-hearted  to  put  him  on  the  throne." 

"Captain  Seton  does  not  stay  here  through 
faint -heartedness. " 


The  Ghost  of  River  me  ad  61 

The  other  girl  only  looked  into  her  tea 
cup,  lifting  her  brows  ever  so  little.  Who 
might  say  how  much  of  her  disapproval  was 
genuine,  how  much  assumed  ? 

"Sometimes,  Ann,  I  think  my  father  and 
Laurence  have  imparted  to  you  their  preju 
dice.  You  none  of  you  understand  Captain 
Seton,"  Judith  said  with  sudden  heat. 

"I  pray  you,  why  should  I  let  Laurence 
set  me  against  my  own  kin?" 

"Because  he — you — that  is-  — 

"Your  explanation  lacks  clearness.  Come, 
is  it  because  people  say  I  am  to  marry  him?" 

"Yes;  it  seems  but  natural  that  a  girl's 
thoughts  should  be  coloured  by  her  lover's." 

Ann  pushed  her  cup  away  laughing.  "So 
it  seems  right  to  you  that  a  lover  should  turn 
you  against  your  own  blood?  Nay,  Judith, 
I  am  of  the  opinion  that  blood  is  the  stronger 
bond;  besides,  a  woman  should  not  begin  too 
soon  to  let  a  man  think  for  her — it  must  be 
unpleasant  enough  after  matrimony  has  made 
it  a  necessity.  So  Arthur  spent  yesterday 
afternoon  with  you,  (and  we  thought  him  at 
the  settlement)— -and  Wednesday  evening  we 
missed  him;  was  he  here  then  also  ?" 

"Yes;  and  we  learned  a  new  song  together. 
We  will  sing  it  for  you  sometime ;  'tis  all  about 
a  girl  who  loved  in  vain." 


62  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

She  began  to  hum  the  tune,  but  at  the  first 
pause  Ann,  in  whose  eyes  there  had  flashed 
a  sudden  resentful  gleam,  yawned  as  if  it 
bored  her,  and  turning  to  the  maid  who  sat 
sewing  by  the  window  she  called  out: 

"Well,  Matilda,  has  the  ghost  been  walking 
any  of  late?" 

The  girl  looked  up  with  a  quick  warning, 
but  Judith  spoke  first.  "What  ghost,  and 
where  does  he  walk?" 

"You  do  not  know  the  story?  Tis  the 
most  interesting  thing  about  Rivermead." 

"Excepting,  of  course — the  master  !"  Judith 
said,  with  teasing  emphasis. 

"Oh,  yes;  of  course."  And  Judith  wished 
Laurence  had  seen  the  swift  colour  that  came 
into  the  other's  face.  She  did  not  stop  to 
analyze  the  momentary  curl  of  the  red  lips 
that  uttered  the  careless  words. 

"But  come,  Ann,  tell  me  the  story.  Creeps 
and  nerves  and  shivers  go  well  with  this 
thunder.  And  please  remember  to  put  in  all 
the  horrors  possible,  else  I  may  go  nodding 
and  wound  your  vanity  as  a  story-teller." 
And  thus  urged  Ann  told  her  story  of  the 
Rivermead  ghost. 

Not  long  before  that  fatal  fall  from  his  horse 
Charles  Falkner  had  sold  his  last  interests  in 


The  Ghost  of  Rivennead  63 

London,  receiving  therefor  a  goodly  sum  of 
English  gold.  There  were  no  security  houses 
in  the  colony,  each  man  kept  his  own  treasure 
in  secret  drawers  or  chests;  and  so  Charles 
Falkner  had  concealed  the  money  somewhere 
about  the  house,  telling  no  one  the  place,  not 
even  his  wife,  who  was  quite  content  to  wait 
his  own  time.  But  he  never  told  at  all,  for 
not  many  months  after  this  there  had  come 
the  fall  from  his  horse  which,  in  injuring 
his  head,  had  so  impaired  his  power  of  memory 
that  although  he  recalled  the  fact  of  the 
treasure,  he  was  never  able  to  recollect  where 
he  had  put  it.  And  in  a  state  of  helpless 
imbecility  he  had  spent  those  latter  vacant 
days  in  a  vain  search  for  it.  All  day  and 
every  day  he  wandered  through  the  house 
seeking,  seeking;  going  from  the  attic  to  the 
cellar  many  times  between  the  rising  and 
setting  of  each  sun,  looking  into  every  corner 
and  crevice  and  tapping  the  floor  with  his 
stick  as  he  walked,  in  the  vain  hope  that  he 
would  find  it  somewhere  under  the  carpets. 
Often  in  the  night  he  rose  from  his  bed  to  go 
the  rounds  of  the  house.  The  family  grew 
accustomed  to  his  vagaries,  but  to  outsiders 
he  was  a  startling  figure,  with  his  vacant  stare 
and  ceaseless  sighs.  But  death  found  him 


64  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

before  he  found  his  gold;  and  so  his  unsolved 
secret  went  with  him  to  the  grave. 

And  now  came  in  the  weird  part  of  the  story. 
The  search  did  not  cease  with  his  life.  It 
seemed  that  even  in  the  grave  h®  was  troubled 
with  a  sense  of  his  loss,  and  his  restless  spirit 
took  up  the  task  his  snuff ed-out  life  had  left 
unfinished.  And  so  it  was,  after  that  autumn, 
on  very  dark  nights  when  the  wind  blew  from 
the  west,  the  sound  of  his  cane  could  be  dis 
tinctly  heard  as  he  plied  his  same  old  quest 
along  the  upper  hall  where,  for  some  unex 
plained  reason,  he  had  always  searched  most 
persistently.  And  not  only  was  his  stick 
audible,  but  now  and  then  a  shadowy  form 
had  been  seen  by  the  servants;  and  if  on? 
were  bold  enough  to  wait  and  listen,  a  deep 
drawn  sigh  would  be  wafted  down  the  corridor, 
betokening  the  old  man's  disappointment. 

"Matilda  knows,  for  she  has  heard  the  tap 
ping,"  Ann  ended. 

"Yes,"  said  the  maid  after  a  moment  of 
hesitation,  "I  heard  the  sound  and  the  sigh 
one  windy  night  when  I  went  to  kindle  a  fire 
in  the  back  guest  chamber  for  company;  and 
I  think  I  should  have  died  of  fright  had  not 
William,  the  ga«rdener,  come  tip  with  some 
wood." 


The  Ghost  of  River  mead  65 

"Twas  but  a  rat." 

"Nay,  rats  make  a  gnawing  sound,  not  a 
tapping;  and  rats  do  not  sigh." 

"What  does  cousin  Laurence  say  of  it?" 

' '  He  laughs ;  but  Mistress  Falkner  is  angry 
if  one  speaks  of  it;  so  please,  Mistress  Judith, 
do  not  tell  her  we  have  told  you." 

"Did  my  cousins,  aid  him  in  the  search?" 

"Yes;  during  his  life  they  followed  after 
him  and  tore  the  house  up ;  but  finding  nothing 
they  left  off  when  he  was  dead." 

In  the  daylight,  with  Ann  opposite  her  on 
the  sofa,  Judith  laughed  at  this  story  as  a 
foolish  scare-head;  but  that  night  as  she 
mounted  the  stair  to  go  to  bed  she  thought 
of  it  quakingly,  and  she  wished  she  had  not 
been  so  foolish  as  to  let  Ann  tell  her  that 
gossipy  tale  of  the  ghostly  seeker.  A  storm 
was  brewing,  and  she  found  the  upper  hall 
in  total  darkness,  for  the  light  had  gone  out 
in  the  draught.  As  a  deep  peal  of  thunder 
died  away  there  came  from  the  end  of  the  hall, 
either  in  fancy  or  reality,  the  tap — tap  as  of 
a  stick  smiting  the  floor.  Charles  Falkner's 
racked  spirit  was  already  upon  its  nightly 
rounds;  and  in  a  sudden  panic  she  thrust  her 
fingers  in  her  ears  and  with  never  a  glance 
backward  fled  away  to  her  own  room  and 
bolted  the  door  behind  her. 


66  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

She  meant  to  tell  Laurence  in  the  morning ; 
but  in  the  bright  sunshine  it  seemed  so  silly 
that  she  was  ashamed  of  her  fright,  and  did 
not  like  the  thought  of  his  ridicule.  But  it 
nevertheless  became  her  custom  on  windy 
nights  to  cover  her  ears  with  her  hands,  and 
race  from  the  stair  to  her  own  room,  with  her 
eyes  turned  always  from  the  haunted  corner 
of  the  corridor. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LISSA. 

"  A  Spirit  pure  as  hers 
Is  always  pure,  even  while  it  errs, — 
As  sunshine  broken  in  the  rill, 
Though  turn'd  aside,  is  sunshine  still." 

— MOORE. 

"'  I  AONY,  how  many  pounds  of  long-cut  did 
I    ship   by   the    Tigress   on   her   return 
voyage?" 

The  voice  must  have  been  a  familiar  one, 
for  the  warehouse  keeper,  without  turning 
on  his  high,  three-legged  stool,  opened  his 
ledger  at  the  name  of  Falkner,  and  read  out 
the  entry. 

"And  what  did  the  shipmaster  say  it  would 
bring  in  London  markets  ?" 

Again  Tony  answered  without  turning,  but 
Laurence  was  now  beside  the  tall  desk  so  that 
he  saw  the  other's  face.  A  strong,  passionate 
face  it  was,  with  a  scar  across  the  left  eyebrow 
that  gave  it  a  sinister  expression,  contradicted 
by  the  mouth  which  somehow  conveyed  the 
idea  of  a  latent  tenderness,  despite  the  sharp 
67 


68  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

things  it  was  always  saying.  There  was  a 
deeper  frown  than  usual  between  the  eyes, 
and  he  put  his  hand  up  quickly  to  hide  a  red 
welt  across  his  cheek.  But  Laurence  had 
seen  it. 

"Another  fight,  Tony?" 

"Yes.  Some  fine  night  I'll  forget  myself 
and  hit  him  a  bit  too  hard,  and  that'll  be  the 
end  of  it." 

"Sutley  or  Larry  Herrick  this  time?" 

"Sutley." 

"About  Lissa,  of  course." 

"Yes.  Game  was  extra  high  last  night; 
Harry  Beach  and  this  young  cousin  of  the 
Randals  made  things  a  bit  wild  for  Sutley." 

"Seton?" 

"Yes." 

"He  is  often  at  Sutley's?" 

Tony  nodded.  "Last  night  when  the  game 
was  done,  Sutley  wished  to  put  them,  all  in 
good  humour,  so  he  ordered  the  girl  to  come 
with  her  tambourine  and  dance  for  them. 
There  had  been  plenty  of  wine,  and  one  of 
them— the  d — d  dog  ! — grabbed  her  for 
a  kiss,  and  held  her  tighter  than  he  should. 
She  struck  him  with  the  tambourine ;  and  then 
Sutley  would  have  beat  her,  but  I— 

"Took  her  part  against  her  own  father;  I 
understand." 


Lissa  69 

"Well,  I'm  not  going  to  sit  by  and  see  a 
motherless  girl  put  upon,"  snarled  Tony,  but 
turning  his  head  somewhat  shamefacedly. 
That  was  always  his  plea  for  interference; 
not  that  the  girl  was  anything  to  him,  not 
that  she  was  pretty  or  young — a  brown-eyed 
wren  hatched  in  a  vulture's  nest — not  any  of 
these  things,  but  that  she  was  motherless. 
''I  fought  my  way  up  without  a  mother,  and 
I  know  what  it  means;  and  I'll  not  see  her 
put  upon,"  he  would  say,  the  scar  over  his  eye 
turning  a  dull  purple.  And  when  that  was 
so  his  questioners  let  him  be,  for  his  small, 
misshapen  body  held  the  spirit  of  a  gladiator, 
the  muscles  in  his  arms  were  like  iron,  and 
his  gun  had  an  ugly  habit  of  never  missing 
its  mark. 

The  friendship  of  the  oddly  assorted  couple 
had  begun  eight  years  ago  when  he  first  saw 
the  girl,  the  day  she  landed  from  the  emigrant 
ship,  a  mite  of  a  child  in  a  red  jacket,  dancing 
on  the  wharf  and  handing  her  tambourine 
around  for  money. 

'Tis  not  enough,"  her  drunken  father  said, 
when  she  carried  him  her  earnings.  "Dance 
again — dance  with  more  spirit  in  your  feet; 
nod  at  them,  smile,  kiss  your  hand,"  and  he 
gave  her  an  ugly  shove,  and  lifted  his  reed 
whistle  to  his  mouth. 


70  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

She  shook  her  tambourine,  and  curved  her 
arm  over  her  head;  but  she  was  tired  and 
unsteady  with  the  unforgotten  motion  of  the 
ship,  and  her  gestures  were  so  automatic  that 
the  spectators  began  to  move  away  without 
interest.  The  man  seeing  this  grew  infuriated 
and  struck  at  her  viciously;  but  he  found  his 
blow  parried,  and  Tony's  gray-green  eyes 
blazed  into  his. 

"Are  you  blind  that  you  see  not  how  spent 
she  is?  Let  her  be." 

For  answer  the  man  turned  the  direction 
of  his  blows,  but  Tony  was  prepared,  and 
Sutley  learned  the  heavy  fall  of  his  fist.  "Get 
up,  "he  said  to  the  prostrate  man,  "and  go  tell 
Clowes  at  the  corner  house  to  fill  you  up — up 
to  the  chin — with  roast  venison  and  boiled 
potatoes  at  my  charge."  Then  turning  to 
the  child  he  held  out  his  hand:  "Come,  little 
one,  my  dinner  is  waiting  at  the  warehouse 
yonder ;  let  us  see  if  there  be  not  a  bit  of  some 
thing  sweet  on  one  of  the  platters,  a  scrap 
of  pudding  fit  for  a  maid  like  you." 

Over  that  meal  she  told  him  her  short  story 
of  alternating  cruelty  and  kindness  and  per 
petual  wanderings;  and  from  that  day  it  was 
to  him  she  ran  for  protection  when  Sutley 
came  reeling  home  with  the  devil  in  his  nature 


Lissa  7 1 

unleashed.  And  Tony  hid  her  in  his  ware 
house  behind  the  big  casks  of  tobacco  or  the 
bales  of  goods  he  had  for  trade  with  the  planters, 
and  fed  her  out  of  his  platters  until  Sutley's 
frenzy  burned  down  and  he  was  sober  and 
ashamed.  And  if  any  one  in  the  settlement 
guessed  her  hiding  place,  he  never  told ;  per 
haps  because  of  the  hunted  look  in  the  child's 
eyes,  perhaps  because  of  the  gun  always  within 
reach  of  Tony's  desk.  A  sense  of  responsi 
bility,  almost  of  ownership,  seemed  to  come 
with  the  protection  he  gave  her,  and  as  each 
anniversary  of  her  coming  found  her  taller 
and  slimmer  he  began  to  look  at  her  doubt 
fully. 

"Think  you  not  you  are  a  big  girl  to  wade 
in  the  river  and  climb  trees?"  he  asked  one 
day.  And  Lissa  looked  at  him  in  amazement 
and  then  put  back  her  head  and  laughed  aloud. 
All  day  she  loitered  by  the  river,  hunted  berries 
in  the  hedges  or  danced  to  the  shadows  in  the 
wood.  For  more  than  a  whole  year  Tony 
pondered  on  it,  chewing  his  tobacco  and 
watching  her  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes. 
Women  were  the  invention  of  the  devil — he 
never  believed  God  made  them — but  since 
she  was  a  woman,  she  must  follow  after  her 
kind.  And  yet  how  to  make  her,  that  was  the 


72  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

point.  Then  one  day  suddenly  the  solution 
of  the  problem  seemed  to  come  to  him. 

"Here,"  he  said,  searching  among  the  boxes 
on  his  warehouse  shelves,  "take  this  thimble 
and  thread  and  cloth  and  go  down  to  Peggy 
Binn,  the  sempster,  and  tell  her  to  teach  you 
to  sew  that  you  may  be  like  other  girls.  And, 
Lissa,  ask  her  to  make  the  tail  of  your  gown 
a  bit  longer;  it  does  not  grow  like  your  legs." 

That  little  pricking  needle  seemed  as  a  lever 
to  lift  them  out  of  their  difficulty,  it  was  so 
essentially  feminine.  Lissa  took  to  it  amiably 
because  she  could  sing  or  talk  as  she  sewed ; 
but  for  the  lessons  Tony  would  have  given  her 
in  reading  and  writing  she  had  no  taste,  and 
there  were  sulky  hours  and  open  rebellions 
that  made  Tony  say  caustic  things  about 
"petticoated  tempers"  when  he  and  his  pipe 
were  alone  after  the  doors  were  closed  for  the 
night. 

The  front  room  of  Sutley's  cabin  had  become 
the  dicing  place  of  the  settlement.  There 
one  could  always  find  a  chance  to  win  or  lose 
the  gold  pieces  or  the  silken  finery  that  were 
the  result  of  tobacco  sales.  And  there  were 
wine  and  quarrels  and  oaths  and  blows ;  and 
the  child  Lissa,  quaking  in  her  blanket  in  the 
loft  above,  saw  and  heard,  and  grew  wise  in 


Lissa  73 

the  world's  wickedness.  When  she  was  older, 
a  tall,  handsome  girl,  Sutley  found  a  new  use 
for  her.  The  young  gallants  who  came  to 
play  with  him  liked  to  have  their  wine  poured 
and  their  cards  and  dice  boxes  laid  out  by  a 
pretty  wench ;  and  Sutley  called  her  from  the 
loft,  and  took  to  buying  her  a  bit  of  bright 
ribbon  or  a  new  neckerchief  now  and  then, 
that  she  might  be  the  comelier.  And  the 
young  gallants  praised  her  beauty,  dropped 
coins  into  her  empty  tankards  sometimes, 
and  for  their  reward  snatched  at  her  red  cheeks 
with  their  wine-wet  lips. 

And  Tony  took  to  swearing  harder  than 
ever. 

"It's  your  fine  gentleman — the  man  with 
the  cleanest  ruffles  and  whitest  hands — who 
leaves  the  blackest  finger-marks  on  a  poor 
lass's  life,"  he  said  scowlingly.  And  he  fixed 
on  a  signal — two  candles  in  her  window  if 
things  should  go  too  boisterously  for  her  and 
she  needed  him.  He  never  gamed  himself, 
but  he  was  often  among  those  who  gathered 
each  night  in  Sutley's  rooms. 

"No  I'm  not  here  to  spoil  sport  or  play 
saint,"  he  said  when  rallied  on  his  avoidance 
of  the  dice.  "I  care  not  a  tinker's  dam  how 
many  of  you  go  to  hell,  or  what  path  you 


74  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

choose  to  travel,  or  how  soon  you  get  there. 
It's  even  chances  I'll  meet  you  there,  for  I'm 
not  thinking  the  Lord '11  keep  the  highest  seat 
in  heaven  waiting  for  me.  I've  quit  the  game; 
that's  all.  You  can  cheat  and  fight  each 
other  as  it  pleases  you ;  but  you  can  light  your 
pipes  with  this  fact — there'll  be  no  rough 
words  to  womenfolk  while  I  am  here." 

There  being  but  one  member  of  her  sex  in  the 
house,  it  was  not  hard  for  his  hearers  to  trans 
late  the  plural  word  to  mean  the  slender  girl 
who  swung  lier  feet  from  the  card  tables  ;  and 
more  than  one  young  fellow,  for  trying  to 
make  too  free  with  Lissa,  felt  the  correction 
that  lay  in  his  strong  arm;  and  Sutley  could 
have  told  to  a  feather's  turn  the  weight  of 
his  hand.  So  Lissa  wore  her  gay  ribbons, 
spent  the  money  from  her  tankards,  rubbed 
the  revellers'  kisses  from  her  cheeks  upon 
Tony's  rough  sleeve,  and  was  happier  than 
she  had  ever  been,  since  food  was  plenty  and 
her  beatings  were  fewer. 

Then  Larry  Herrick  came  to  Jamestown 
from  Henrico. 

And  Tony's  profanity  had  a  bitterer  note, 
for  Lissa  did  not  rub  off  the  touch  of  Larry's 
daring  lips — and  he  had  plenty  of  gold  pieces 
to  rattle  in  her  mugs.  When  he  took  off  his 


Lissa  75 

hat,  looped  with  its  buckle  of  brilliants,  and 
swung  it  to  the  ground  at  her  door,  she  dimpled 
like  the  quiet  pools  of  the  James  smitten  by  a 
frolicsome  zephyr. 

"What  is  it  about  the  young  scamp  catches 
your  fancy?"  asked  Tony  sourly. 

"I  ha'  never  said  I  like  him  over  much." 

"Not  said  it,  perchance;  but  one  would 
think  Prince  Charlie  himself  had  come  to 
Virginia,  the  way  you  go  white  and  red  when 
he  looks  at  you.  Seton — blast  him  ! — pays 
you  as  fine  compliments;  and  Harry  Beach 
throws  you  as  many  gold  pieces-  may  the 
devil  burn  him  in  spluttering  pitch  for  it  ! 
What's  the  difference  between  them  and  this 
young  blue-eyed  rogue?" 

"Oh,  he  has  such  a  way  of  looking  at  a 
body ;  tender  and  soft-Kke." 

"Umph!" 

"And  then  he  has  such  a — such  a  squeeze 
to  his  hand  J" 

"Aye,  and  he'll  squeeze  the  heart  out  of  you 
and  throw  you  away  like  a  dry  sponge.  Hew 
often  must  I  tell  you,  child,  that  these  young 
gentlemen  play  with  a  girl  like  you,  and  marry 
in  their  own  class?" 

But  Lissa  struck  him  half  angrily  across 
the  arm,  and  turned  to  pat  into  place  the 


76  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

rose-hued  hair  ribbon  which  Larry  had  praised 
last  night  when  she  leaned  over  the  table 
with  his  wine. 

"The  ribbon  makes  you  more  of  a  rose  than 
ever,  my  beauty,"  he  had  whispered,  and 
touched  her  moving  arm  with  his  lips,  but 
so  quickly  withal  that  no  one  saw. 

That  was  Larry's  way.  The  others  cried 
their  compliments  out  to  the  whole  room, 
caring  not  who  heard;  but  Larry  said  his  to 
her  alone,  and  so  there  went  with  them  a  little 
tingling  sense  of  secrecy  and  ownership  that 
was  as  the  taste  of  wild  honey. 

Every  night  now  Tony  went  to  Sutley's 
and  sat  watching,  not  the  game,  but  one  of 
the  players.  Larry  might  rob  Seton  of  his 
few  gold  pieces,  might  cheat  Harry  Beach, 
might  even  teach  young  Newton  the  danger 
ous  fascination  of  the  jangling  dice ;  but  he 
should  deal  fairly  by  Lissa,  or  there  would  be 
a  reckoning  other  than  the  leather  boxes 
turned  out. 

"The  very  sound  of  Sutley's  voice  bidding 
her  fill  Larry's  glass  or  dance  for  him  shortens 
the  muscles  in  my  fingers  until  they  twist  up 
into  fists,"  he  said  to  Laurence  that  morning 
in  the  warehouse,  his  teeth  gritting  on  the 
stem  of  his  pipe.  "Some  day  I'll  forget  my- 


Lissa  7  7 

self  and  kill  him,  and  there'll  be  an  end  of  it." 

"You  are  more  like  a  father  to  the  girl  than 
Sutley  himself,"  was  the  answer  from  between 
the  pages  of  Laurence's  note  book. 

"I'm  not  trying  to  be  anybody's  father," 
snapped  Tony.  "I  just  want  to  put  some 
sense  in  a  woman's  head — though  heaven 
knows  it's  presumptuous  enough  in  me  to 
think  I  can  do  what  the  Lord  failed  at  when 
He  first  created  her." 

"Women  suit  me  the  way  Providence  made 
them,"  laughed  Laurence. 

"Well,  they  do  not  please  me,"  said  Tony, 
crossing  to  the  table  to  get  a  cool  cloth  for 
his  smarting  cheek.  "I  think  I  could  have 
fashioned  a  cursed  better  model,  but  it's  hard 
to  change  an  old  pattern." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  LOVE  OF  THE  LONG  AGO. 

"  'Tis   far   off; 
And  rather  like  a  dream  than  an  assurance." 

T  IFE  at  Rivermead  went  happily  enough 
•*— '  as  the  spring  days  widened  into  June. 
Mistress  Falkner,  reluctantly  and  sighing  the 
while,  gradually  yielded  herself  to  the  charm 
of  Judith's  presence  and  made  no  plaint  when 
things  in  the  house  went  awry.  There  were 
no  broken  platters  as  of  yore  to  grieve  her 
housewifely  heart,  and  the  neglected  play 
things  of  Cotslea  were  also  missing;  but  the 
parlour  carpet  was  often  strewn  with  shattered 
roses  from  my  lady's  dress,  and  the  hall  table 
was  piled  with  books  and  gloves  and  riding 
whips  which  no  one  save  that  young  woman 
would  have  dared  to  leave  out  of  place  in  so 
well  ordered  a  household. 

To  Laurence,  the  sight  of  these  things  was 
as  stray  sunbeams  out  of  Eden-land,  and 
many  a  night  when  the  others  were  a-bed  and 
he  had  finished  closing  up  the  house,  he  wrould 

78 


A  Love  of  the  Long  Ago  79 

stop  by  the  hall  table  and  look  lovingly  upon 
these  evidences  of  his  cousin's  presence — 
toying  a  moment  with  the  whip  she  had  used, 
or  smoothing  out  the  gloves  that  had  encased 
her  white  hands  from  the  sun.  His  parents 
had  been  austere,  reserved  people  who  en 
couraged  no  demonstration  of  affection  from 
their  son ;  and  so  it  was  in  the  long  ago  that 
the  boy's  heart,  yearning  for  the  sunnier  side 
of  life,  had  clung  about  the  little  girl  cousin 
whose  imperious  fists  might  beat  him  be 
cause  her  lips  were  ever  ready  to  kiss  away 
the  smart.  Now  his  thoughts  were  going 
out  to  the  grown-up  Judith  in  a  stronger  tide ; 
and  watching  the  pretty  courtship  enacting 
under  his  eyes,  he  believed  that  his  instan 
taneous  aversion  to  Arthur  Seton  the  day 
of  their  meeting  had  been  a  premonition. 
And  with  it  all  there  came  such  a  stinging 
sense  of  helplessness — Seton  had  plucked  the 
flower  before  he  himself  could  reach  it  ;  for 
\vhat  other  meaning  could  there  be  to  Judith's 
swift  changes  of  colour? 

Sir  Thomas  fumed  openly  at  the  young 
captain's  visits.  His  own  sons  had  bided  in 
England  and  braved  the  dangers  of  a  revolu 
tion,  and  it  looked  like  shirking  for  a  strong 
fellow  like  Seton  to  be  hiding  securely  amid 


So  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

the  wilds  of  the  colonies.  That  was  what 
he  said  to  Judith ;  but  in  his  heart  was  a  dearer 
reason.  He  was  an  astute  politician;  from 
the  time  of  the  king's  execution  he  had  had  small 
hope,  in  spite  of  what  he  said  to  comfort 
Judith,  for  the  restoration  of  the  Royalists  to 
power;  and  to  confirm  his  opinions  there  had 
followed  him  across  the  water  the  news  of 
the  young  prince's  lack  of  an  army  and  muni 
tions  of  war,  of  Cromwell's  triumph  and  the 
proclamation  of  the  Commonwealth.  It  had 
fallen  out  as  he  had  feared;  it  would  be  long 
before  any  change  of  government  came,  if 
indeed  it  came  at  all;  the  English  populace 
had  to  try  and  to  grow  weary  of  this  new 
political  toy.  He  himself  was  old,  his  sons 
might  fall  at  any  time,  for  those  who  followed 
the  fortunes  of  the  Stuart  carried  their  lives 
in  their  sword  scabbards;  and  Judith  must  be 
provided  for.  What  better  portion  could  he 
wish  for  her  than  to  see  her  mistress  of  this 
fine  colonial  home  with  its  broad  farm  acres 
and  its  air  of  prosperous  plenty?  This  idea 
had  been  in  his  mind  when  he  first  resolved  to 
seek  refuge  in  Virginia,  remembering  Laurence's 
affection  for  the  child  Judith.  Since  coming, 
the  idea  had  crystallized  into  a  resolve  which 
Arthur  Seton  seemed  like  to  make  of  no  avail. 


A  Love  of  the  Long  Ago  81 

For  under  the  spell  of  Arthur's  wooing, 
Judith  was  dreaming  her  first  love  dream, 
seeing  all  things  through  a  rose-hued  mist 
that  left  no  blemish  anywhere.  Into  his 
courtship  the  young  Cavalier  had  thrown  the 
vvhole  strength  of  his  nature,  never  stopping  to 
ask  what  lay  behind  the  winning  of  her  con 
sent.  His  confiscated  estates,  his  penniless 
condition  were  not  the  obstacles  that  daunted 
him;  it  was  only  Sir  Thomas's  continued 
frown.  In  her  distress  and  discomfort  Judith 
carried  her  complaint  of  her  father  to  Laurence 
who  was  sorely  put  to  it  to  answer. 

"What  is  it  you  wish  me  to  do?"  he  asked 
one  day  in  answer  to  her  appeal.  "Your 
father  uses  the  gentleman  with  all  civility 
here  in  my  house;  more  than  that  I  have  no 
right  to  ask — nor  should  you  expect  more, 
seeing,  as  you  say,  that  he  likes  him  not." 

"But  he  should  like  him." 

"Why  so?     Merely  because  you  do?" 

"That  were  a  sufficient  reason,  even  were 
there  no  others." 

"Nay;  we  all  of  us  do  not  see  with  your 
partial  eyes." 

"My  eyes  are  not  so  partial  as  they  are 
just.  You  have  taken  a  prejudice  against 
Captain  Seton  which  is  unworthy  of  you," 


82  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

she   answered;   and   straightway   took   herself 
off  with  her  chin  in  the  air. 

All  the  afternoon  a.  vague  sense  of  unrest 
possessed  Laurence.  It  was  the  nearest  ap 
proach  to  a  quarrel  they  had  ever  had,  and 
it  left  behind  a  sense  of  irritation,  for  which 
Seton  came  in  for  a  goodly  share.  Towards 
evening  he  went  in  search  of  her  to  convince 
himself  that  she  was  not  angry.  He  found 
her  in  the  honeysuckle  arbour,  her  head  thrown 
back,  her  eyes  fixed  absently  upon  a  speck  of 
cloud  that  trailed  the  summer  sky,  her  atti 
tude  expressive  of  deep  revery. 

"It  were  a  grave  intrusion,  I  presume,  to 
ask  the  tenor  of  your  thoughts,"  he  said,  stand 
ing  before  her,  hat  in  hand. 

The  moment  she  turned  her  gaze  upon  him 
he  knew  that  her  impatience  was  gone.  "I 
will  tell  you  gladly,  if  you  will  come  in  and 
sit  down,"  she  said,  moving  her  skirts  aside. 
"I  was  thinking  of  Cotslea." 

"Not  wishing  to  return  thither,  I  hope; 
Rivermead  could  ill  spare  to  lose  you,  having 
once  had  you  as  an  inmate,"  he  said,  taking 
the  place  she  made  for  him  beside  her  on  the 
bench. 

She  hesitated.  "It  would  be  ungrateful 
to  say  that  after  all  your  kindness.  But 
still  one's  heart  goes  back  to  one's  home." 


A  Love  of  the  Long  Ago  83 

"Unless,  indeed,  one  makes  a  new  home." 
"Yes,"   she  admitted  slowly.     Then  asked: 
"Were  you  never  homesick  for  England  when 
you  first  came  to  Virginia?" 

He  looked  at  her  in  silence,  then  taking 
her  hand  in  his  a  moment  he  answered  gravely : 
"So  homesick,  Judy,  that  once  or  twice  I  was 
near  to  running  away  from  my  father  and 
returning — but  the  yearning  was  not  for  Eng 
land,  only  for  one  person  I  had  left  there. 
Every  day  and  all  day  I  missed  her." 

She  opened  her  eyes  in  wonder  "Her? 
Missed  her?"  Then  a  comprehensive  smile 
curved  her  red  lips:  "A  sweetheart!  Why, 
I  never  suspected  such  a  thing,  cousin.  You 
had  a  sweetheart,  a  romance  in  England.-— 
How  perfectly  delightful !  Come,  tell  me  all 
about  it."  She  moved  toward  him  with  a 
soft,  nestling  movement. 
"Would  that  I  could." 

"Oh,  you  can.  I  will  be  your  mother- con 
fessor,  and  give  you  good  counsel.  What  did 
she  look  like?" 

"To  me,  she  was  very  beautiful." 
"She  knew  you  loved  her?" 
"I  never  tried  to  hide  it  from  her." 
"And  she  loved  you  in  return,  of  course." 
He  shook  his  head:     "Not  as  I  now  wish 
she  had." 


84  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

She  stroked  the  brown  hand  on  the  arm 
of  the  rustic  bench,  a  rare  demonstration  for 
her  in  these  grown-up  days:  "Then  was  she 
a  maid  of  most  questionable  taste.  What 
sort  of  a  paragon  was  she  looking  for? — not 
love  you,  indeed!" 

"You  think  a  woman  might  love  me,  then?" 

"Assuredly,  and  with  all  her  soul. —  Did  I 
ever  see  her,  cousin?" 

"Yes." 

"And  she  lived  near  Cotslea?" 

"Very  near." 

"I  wish  I  could  think! — you  will  not  tell 
me  her  name?" 

"Not  now;  some  day  1  may  have  the  cour 
age." 

"Courage?  Is  her  name  then  so  formidable 
that  it  requires  a  stout  heart  just  to  speak  it?" 

"It  is  the  most  beautiful  name  in  the  world." 

"I  am  consumed  with  curiosity.  Whisper 
it  softly  to  me,  cousin  dear;  I'll  never  tell." 

She  leaned  ever  so  lightly  against  his  shoulder 
and  turned  her  shell-pink  ear  to  him.  No 
anchorite  of  old,  vowed  to  perpetual  renuncia 
tion  and  self-sacrifice,  could  have  resisted 
temptation  like  that.  A  great  longing  rushed 
over  him,  setting  his  pulses  in  a  tingle,  sweep 
ing  aside  all  barriers  of  self-restraint.  Why 


A  Love  of  the  Long  Ago  85 

should  he  give  up  all  right  of  way  to  Seton; 
why  not  take  the  joy  the  moment  offered 
him?  He  would  tell  her,  yet  wordlessly, 
who  this  love  of  the  long  ago  had  been,  who 
she  still  was.  His  arm  slipped  from  the  bench 
rail  to  her  waist,  his  lips  had  almost  reached 
her  cheek,  when  a  step  crunched  on  the 
gravel  without.  They  both  started;  and  the 
next  minute  Arthur  Seton  stood  in  the  arbour 
entrance,  his  plumed  hat  in  his  hand.  Judith 
dimpled  and  put  out  her  hand  with  a  glad 
welcome.  And  with  a  sudden  numbing  sense 
of  loss  Laurence  rose  slowly  to  his  feet. 

An  hour  later,  when  Seton  quitted  the  arbour, 
he  carried  Judith's  promise  of  love-unfailing. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
SETON'S  RETURN. 

"  All  farewells  should  be  sudden, 

Else  they  make  an  eternity  of  moments." 

— BYRON. 

""\yTATILDA, "   Judith  said  one  morning  as 
*•**•     the   maid    fastened    her  bodice,    "had 
you   ever  a    lover?" 

Matilda's  honest  English  face  grew  rosy: 
"So  please  you,  Mistress  Judith,  I  have  a 
lover  now."  . 

"Indeed  !  Tell  me  of  him — is  he  very  fond 
of  you?" 

Matilda  hesitated,  then  evidently  glad  of  a 
confidante,  told  how  William,  the  gardener, 
who  had  been  her  sweetheart  always,  was  too 
poor  to  bring  her  to  the  Colonies,  since  it  took 
so  much  money  for  ship  passage  and  for  a 
start  in  the  New  World.  So  he  had  come  to 
America  as  Master  Falkner's  indentured  servant 
to  prepare  the  way  for  her.  His  term  of  in 
denture  was  six  years,  five  of  which  were  al 
ready  gone. 

86 


8? 

"And  how  came  you  here  too  ?" 

Matilda  was  rosier  than  ever.  "After  Wil 
liam  sailed  there  seemed  to  be  nobody  left 
in  England— nobody  at  all;  and  I  grew  that 
lonesome  that  after  my  mother  died  I  saved 
my  wages  and  followed  him  out,  taking  ser 
vice  first  with  the  Randals  and  afterwards 
here  with  the  mistress.  We  will  go  before  the 
minister  the  very  day  William  is  free.  We 
have  but  waited  for  that,  for  he  said  he  could 
not  abide  that  I  should  bear  even  the  shadow 
of  his  bondage." 

"And  what  does  Cousin  Janet  say  to  this?" 

"She  knows  nothing  of  it ;  she  is  that  serious- 
faced  that  I  would  be  afraid  to  tell  her  any 
thing  save  how  many  sheets  there  be  in  the 
closet  or  pounds  of  butter  in  the  churn.  William 
and  I  ha'  loved  each  other  none  the  less  for 
gabbing  to  nobody,  and  the  end  is  not  far  off." 

Judith  went  down  the  stairway  singing. 
This  homely  courtship,  running  along  under 
the  same  roof  as  her  own,  was  an  example  of 
patience  and  truth  that  many  a  lady  of  high 
degree  might  imitate.  But  she  was  glad  the 
consummation  of  her  own  romance  was  not  so 
near  at  hand ;  she  did  not  wish  to  think  of 
marriage  for  a  long  time  to  come — not  until 
she  should  be  again  at  Cotslea  with  the  neigh- 


88  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

bours  and  tenants  to  see  her,  the  village  chil 
dren  to  strew  flowers  in  her  path,  and  the  old 
sexton  to  ring  the  wedding  chimes.  Think 
ing  of  her  own  content,  she  was  very  sorry  for 
Ann,  Laurence  made  so  poor  a  lover.  Could 
it  be  that  he  still  thought  of  that  first  sweet 
heart  in  England  ?  No ;  that  was  only  a  boy 
hood  fancy  and  had  left  but  a  tender  memory. 
Ann  was  the  woman  for  him,  the  wife  set 
apart  by  fate  and  circumstance.  Her  heart 
was  as  a  great  rose  hanging  within  his  reach; 
he  had  only  to  put  out  his  hand  and  gather 
the  blossom;  for  she  must  love  him  after  all 
these  years  of  friendship  and  neighbourliness. 
She  was  only  waiting  for  him  to  realize  this 
and  to  speak;  that  wras  why  she  looked  so 
curiously  at  Judith  since  her  betrothal ;  she  was 
envious  of  her  friend's  happiness,  irritated  at 
Laurence's  blindness.  No  wonder  she  played 
the  coquette  with  Harry  Beach  and  Arthur 
and  even  Newton.  She  was  so  sorry  for  Ann 
that  she  took  to  lecturing  Laurence:  he  must 
not  think  so  poorly  of  his  chances  of  success ; 
he  must  go  oftener  to  see  his  neighbour.  But 
he  put  her  off  laughingly. 

"Tut,  tut,  Judy,  Laurence  has  the  right  of 
it,"  her  father  said  one  morning,  overhearing 
the  end  of  their  talk.  "A  man  should  stay 


Seton's  Return  89 

at  home  and  mind  his  affairs.  'Tis  only  an 
idle  fellow  like  Seton,  living  on  the  bounty  of 
his  friends,  who  can  tie  himself  to  a  woman's 
apron-string  day  after  day." 

The  sneer  rankled  in  her  thoughts,  so  that 
in  the  evening,  when  Arthur  came  as  was  his 
wont,  she  re-opened  the  old  subject  of  his 
quitting  England. 

"When  the  king  comes  to  his  own,"  he  had 
whispered,  "he  will  not  be  one-half  so  happy 
as  I,  in  that  you  will  then  think  seriously  of 
marrying  me." 

"And  how  is  the  king  to  come  to  his  own 
saving  by  the  broadswords  of  his  followers?" 
she  asked  somewhat  sharply.  "Think  you  this 
Cromwell  will  step  down  from  his  high  place 
of  his  own  choice  ?  Nay,  it  is  only  to  force 
that  he  will  yield;  and  no  brave  servant  of 
the  king  should  let  his  sword  rust  in  its  scab 
bard  during  these  troublous  times." 

He  frowned.  "From  your  tone,  you  seem 
to  question  my  courage." 

"Not  your  courage,  but  your  loyalty,"  she 
answered  quickly.  "If  so  you  expect  to 
profit  by  the  king's  return,  methinks  you 
should  do  something  to  aid  him." 

"I  have  told  you  that  I  quitted  Eng 
land  because  the  cause  seemed  hopeless.  The 


90  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Roundheads  had  burnt  my  house  and  slain  my 
father,  and  would  have  killed  me  likewise. 
But  when  the  right  time  shall  come,  I  promise 
you  that  I  will  go  back  to  England  and  give  my 
sword  to  the  service  of  the  king." 

As  if  to  test  his  resolution,  the  very  next 
day  brought  stirring  tidings.  A  ship  anchored 
in  port,  and  Newton  came  to  Rivermead  full 
of  excitement,  his  pale  face  flushed  and  eager. 

"I  am  going  back  to  England,  Judith.  The 
Irish  are  in  open  arms  for  the  king,  and  there 
are  riots  and  battles.  I  cannot  stay  here 
while  the  fighting  goes  on  yonder;  my  blood 
would  burn  up  with  impatience.  It  would 
be  desolate  at  home  with  you  gone  from 
Cotslea,  but  I  shall  not  be  there;  I  shall  be  in 
the  camp,  in  the  stir  of  war." 

"And  your  mother;  will  she  let  you  go?" 
Judith  was  almost  as  breathless  as  he. 

"She  must;  she  cannot  keep  me  always  a 
child,  and  'tis  foolish  to  say  I  am  not  strong. 
Dick  Horrie  is  going,  and  I  shall  go  with  him, 
no  matter  what  is  said." 

"When  will  you  go?" 

"The  Good  Hope  is  loading  at  the  wharf; 
she  sails  three  days  hence,  and  we  will  go  on 
her.  Judy,  you  will  not  forget  me  when  I  am 
gone?  When  everything  is  settled  I  am 


coming  back  to  ask  that  sweet  question  I 
have  had  so  long  in  mind.  Do  not  marry 
Seton  before  then;  he  is  not  half  the  man  for 
you." 

Sir  Thomas  came  out  to  them,  his  hands 
full  of  letters. 

"Judy,  Judy,  here  is  news  from  your  broth 
ers.  Ah,  I  thought  Scotland  would  not  forget 
her  duty  to  the  Stuart !  Come,  read." 

Everybody  was  full  of  excitement,  even 
Mistress  Falkner  reading  the  broad-sheets 
Tony  Foster  sent  out  from  the  letter  pouch  of 
the  new  ship.  Ann  and  Arthur  stopped  on 
their  way  to  the  settlement,  and  Ann  watched 
Judith  curiously  as  she  told  the  news,  her 
face  bright  with  hope  for  the  wandering  Stuart, 
and  a  secret  longing  that  here  at  last  was  some 
thing  to  arouse  her  lover.  Sir  Thomas  looked 
after  him  scornfully  as  they  rode  away. 

"If  he  shirks  now  he  deserves  nothing — 
neither  lands  from  the  king  nor  love  from  a 
woman,"  he  said.  And  Judith  could  not 
answer  him. 

But  with  the  dusk  Arthur  was  back  again, 
a  new  excitement  in  his  face.  Slowly  they 
paced  the  moonlit  space  down  the  avenue  in 
front  of  the  porch  on  which  the  others  sat. 

' '  I  am  coming  to  your  way  of  thinking,  Judith, 


92  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

for  I  cannot  get  your  words  about  Newton 
and  Horrie  out  of  my  mind." 

"Charles  Stuart  will  have  two  more  trusty 
followers." 

"Amos  had  a  letter  for  me,  telling  me  that 
my  old  command  was  secretly  reforming." 

"And  their  leader  here  in  Virginia  !" 

Her  emphasis  was  not  to  be  mistaken;  he 
bit  his  lip.  "I  told  you  I  would  go  back  when 
the  right  time  came— 

"And  is  it  not  already  come,  with  Holland 
friendly  to  our  cause,  the  Scots  rising,  and 
Ireland  in  open  rebellion  for  the  king?  My 
brothers  both  wait  for  him  on  the  border. 
They  at  least  are  not  laggards  in  war." 

"Nor  will  I  be,  though  in  my  heart  is  fore 
boding  of  disaster." 

"You  will  go  to  England  ?" 

"You  will  keep  faith  with  me  if  I  do  ?" 

"I  am  a  deal  likelier  to  keep  faith  with  a 
Cavalier  fighting  under  the  king's  banner 
where  he  belongs,  than  with  a  Cavalier  waiting 
outside  for  others  to  win  the  victory  for  him." 
she  answered,  her  father's  taunt  coming  like 
a  sting  to  her  memory. 

They  were  close  to  the  porch,  and  their 
voices  went  up  to  those  above.  Sir  Thomas 
chuckled  at  the  sharp  sound  of  hers;  but 


Scton's  Return  93 

Laurence  got  up  quickly  and  went  into  the 
house,  unable  longer  t©  bear  the  sight  of  those 
two  loitering  in  the  wran  light.  He  sat  down 
in  the  library,  but  he  could  not  read  the  book 
he  opened  because  of  the  hot  choking  in  his 
throat. 

Down  the  avenue,  where  an  untrimmed 
maple  bough  cast  its  shadow  over  them,  the 
other  two  had  paused. 

"Ann  urges  me  vehemently  to  remain,  but 
you  have  set  my  duty  before  me  and  I  will 
follow  it.  I  go,  not  for  Charles  Stuart,  but  for 
you.  If  evil  should  befall  me. — 

"There  is  chance  of  evil  everywhere," 
she  answered,  for  she  had  been  bred  a  soldier's 
daughter,  and  looked  at  war  with  different 
eyes  from  Ann. 

"You  are  right,  and  I  am  going  with  New 
ton  and  Horrie.  But  for  the  anchor  your  love 
has  made  for  me  here,  it  would  not  be  hard, 
for  I  am  tired  of  this  life  of  inactivity.  But 
now  you  shall  swear  to  me,  here  under  these 
stars  and  by  the  love  I  have  for  you,  that  you 
will  keep  faith  with  me  until  such  time  as  I 
shall  return." 

And  with  her  hands  crossed  over  her  breast 
and  her  face  lifted  to  the  star-lilied  sky,  she 
promised. 


94  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

But  on  the  porch  Sir  Thomas  refused  to 
listen  to  Seton  and  put  Judith  coldly  from 
him.  The  match  pleased  him  in  no  way,  he 
said;  it  would  be  time  enough  to  discuss  the 
matter  when  the  king  had  been  crowned  and 
Arthur's  estates  restored  so  that  he  might 
properly  think  of  taking  a  wife.  In  the  end, 
Seton  went  away  angry ;  and  Judith,  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life  denying  her  father's  good 
night  kiss,  watched  him  tearfully  as  he  mounted 
the  stair  to  his  room. 

"And  you,  too,  are  cross  and  make  me  no 
good  wishes,"  she  said  when  Laurence  lighted 
her  candle  for  her  at  the  hall  table.  "What 
possible  objection  can  you  find  to  Arthur?" 

He  was  very  pale  as  he  looked  at  her.  "It 
is  not  my  right  to  object,  sweet  cousin;  that 
is  for  your  father  alone.  But  you  can  scarcely 
expect  me  to  welcome  even  a  distant  prospect 
of  your  leaving  Rivermead." 

"You  have  been  so  good  to  us,"  she  said, 
with  an  instantaneous  softening  of  manner, 
her  hand  caressing  his  arm.  "Methinks  I  love 
not  my  brothers  so  well  as  you." 

He  looked  at  the  hand  on  his  sleeve,  such 
clinging,  white  fingers,  and  for  a  moment 
something  in  him  wavered;  but  when  he 
spoke  his  voice  was  even  and  quiet.  "Your 


Setoris  Return  95 

brothers  would  not  do  more  for  your  happi 
ness;  remember  that  always.  If  ever  you 
stand  in  need,  you  have  only  to  speak,  I  will 
not  fail  you,  no  matter  what  you  ask ;" 

"Even  to  the  half  of  your  kingdom?"  she 
laughed. 

"Even  to  the  whole  of  it." 

He  was  so  grave  that  the  jest  died  on  her 
lips.  "You  are  always  so  generous,  cousin; 
so  good  and  generous;  my  heart  is  full  of 
gratitude  to  you."  And  before  he  could 
prevent  her  she  had  stooped  and  kissed  his 
hand.  Then  she  was  gone,  and  he  stood 
staring  at  the  spot  where  her  lips  had  touched. 

Three  days  later  Judith  stood  on  the  wharf 
and  waved  good-bye  to  her  lover,  as  the  out 
going  vessel  went  dropping  down  the  river. 
She  had  sent  him  away  to  fight  for  the  Stuarts 
and  for  her,  to  forge  the  first  link  in  the  long 
chain  of  happiness  that  would  stretch  back 
to  Cotslea  and  a  new  home  under  the  blue 
English  skies. 

"Suppose  he  never  returns?  Suppose  you 
have  sent  him  to  his  death  among  the  Round 
heads  ?"  Ann  Randal  said  in  her  ear,  and  her 
voice  had  a  hissing  sound  that  was  at  once  a 
reproach  and  an  accusation. 

"He  will  return,"  Judith  replied  confidently, 


96  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

and  turned  to  answer  his  signal,  straining  her 
eyes  for  one  last  glimpse  of  his  face. 

The  sailors  threw  a  wrhite  sail  to  the  sun ; 
the  water  at  the  prow  grew  yeasty  as  the 
vessel  quickened  speed ;  the  figures  on  the  deck 
lost  their  individual  lines  so  that  Judith  could 
no  longer  tell  Arthur  from  Newton.  The 
hulk  of  the  ship  passed  out  of  sight  beyond 
the  first  bend,  but  the  watchers  lingered,  for 
the  masts  were  still  visible  above  the  trees; 
then,  thread-like,  they  faded  into  the  wide 
sky. 

"He  is  gone!"  Judith  cried,  with  suddenly 
blanching  cheeks  and  tear-misted  eyes. 

But  the  girl  beside  her  laughed  shrilly. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

UNDER    THE    CANDELABRA. 

"  You   talk   to   me   in   parables!" 

— OTWAY. 

'VJO  brown-winged  thrush  of  the  thicket 
•*•  ^  sang  more  blithely  that  Judith  during 
the  summer  days  that  followed  the  sail 
ing  of  the  Good  Hope.  Sir  Thomas,  guess 
ing  where  her  thoughts  were,  was  often  minded 
to  clap  his  hand  over  her  red  mouth  and  shut 
off  the  trills  and  ripples  of  song.  But  he  only 
swore  under  his  breath  as  he  paced  up  and 
down  the  long  veranda,  for  he  was  playing 
with  himself  a  game  of  patience.  Arthur  was 
gone,  that  was  one  point  gained ;  what  might 
not  happen  before  he  returned  ?  Perhaps, 
indeed,  he  would  never  return,  for  war  is  a 
precarious  mistress  and  her  votary  of  to-day 
may  be  her  oblation  of  to-morrow.  Cromwell 
would  not  be  deposed  in  a  day,  a  month,  or  a 
year;  Judith  might  grow  weary  of  the  pro 
longed  wait — a  woman's  fancy  jumped  so 
with  the  hour  and  circumstance.  In  the 
97 


98  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

meantime  he  would  not  fan  the  flame  of  her 
preference  by  injudicious  abuse  or  opposition. 
It  was  the  unfed  fire  that  died  down;  so  he 
never  mentioned  Seton's  name  for  praise  or 
blame. 

"Brother  Amos  says  you  were  right  to  send 
our  cousin  to  England,"  Ann  said  one  morn 
ing  as  the  two  girls  were  cutting  roses  for  the 
library  vases;  "but  right  or  wrong,  I  should 
not  like  the  responsibility,  seeing  what  may 
possibly  befall  him." 

"Why  should  you  always  be  saying  that  a 
responsibility  rests  upon  me  for  persuading 
Captain  Seton  to  return  ?  It  was  plainly  his 
duty,"  Judith  answered  with  a  touch  of  asper 
ity,  lifting  her  shears  for  a  big  pink  blossom 
that  nodded  at  her  from  its  swaying  stem. 

"Why,  surely  you  must  realize  that  should 
any  misfortune  befall  him  in  this  war,  'tis  upon 
you  the  blame  must  rest,  since  you  so  urged 
him  to  go,"  Ann  said  in  her  drawling  voice. 

"No  misfortune  will  come  to  him — though  I 
do  not  take  it  kindly  of  you  to  be  continually 
reminding  me  of  the  other  possibility.  He  will 
distinguish  himself  in  some  battle,  do  some 
thing  wonderfully  brave,  so  that  when  the 
restoration  is  effected  King  Charles  will  receive 
him  into  special  favour." 


Under  the  Candelabra  99 

It  was  thus  he  figured  in  her  dreams,  always 
leading,  always  unscathed,  a  hero  with  the 
light  of  victory  upon  him.  She  could  not  recall 
the  time  wThen  her  father  or  her  brothers  had 
not  been  in  the  army  of  the  king,  and  so  sat 
urated  was  her  mind  with  tales  of  warriors,  of 
gallant  deeds  and  miraculous  escapes,  that  war 
left  with  her  no  haunting  dread.  A  wound 
might  come,  yes ;  but  the  scars  of  battle  were 
the  sign-manual  of  courage  and  greatness  and 
of  that  high  distinction  which  is  the  heritage 
of  the  future. 

So  it  was  she  thought  of  her  lover  during  the 
golden  daytime,  and  in  that  starry  aftermath 
which  for  long  cycles  has  been  the  season  of 
dreams,  the  trysting  hour  of  hearts  separated 
by  fate. 

During  the  first  part  of  the  summer  Laurence 
was  occupied  with  his  growing  crops,  so  that 
those  in  the  house  saw  but  little  of  him  except 
when  they  gathered  on  the  veranda  after  sun 
set  to  enjoy  the  breeze  that  blew  up  the  river. 
But  when  the  August  sun  shone  hot  he  came 
in  earlier  from  his  tours  of  inspection,  and  Sir 
Thomas  helped  him  with  his  accounts  in  the 
shutter-shaded  library,  while  Judith  sat  near 
with  her  knitting,  or  the  embroidery  from  which 
cousin  Janet  was  always  having  her  pick  wrong 


ioo  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

stitches.  And  her  father  was  secretly  pleased 
when  Laurence  stopped  to  pick  up  her  dropped 
scissors,  or  to  thank  her  for  the  flowers  on  his 
desk.  Sometimes,  when  she  seemed  lonely  or 
out  of  spirits,  the  long  columns  of  figures  were 
thrust  out  of  sight,  and  selecting  a  book  he  took 
her  over  to  the  open  window,  or,  which  pleased 
Sir  Thomas  better,  they  went  away  to  the 
honeysuckle  arbour  where  the  droning  bees 
were  their  only  company.  And  there  he  read 
to  her,  or  they  talked  of  the  hundred  things 
that  had  come  to  have  a  common  interest ;  but 
into  these  conversations  Seton's  name  seldom 
crept,  for  she  had  early  learned  that  Laurence 
did  not  care  to  discuss  the  absent  Cavalier. 

The  expected  decisive  news  from  England 
did  not  come.  There  was  dissension  in  Ireland ; 
but  England  remained  Puritan,  and  the  un 
crowned  king  was  still  a  fugitive  from  his 
throne.  But  Virginia,  though  Cavalier  at 
heart,  did  not  sit  in  social  sackcloth  because  of 
these  things.  There  were  visits  and  return 
visits,  and  a  grand  ball  at  Greenspring  to 
welcome  the  refugees  who  had  fluttered  into 
the  settlements  like  flights  of  flurried  birds. 
And  thither  Judith  went  with  her  father  and 
Laurence  in  the  big  coach.  A  wreath  of  roses 
bound  the  top  of  her  blue  bodice,  and  a  blue 


Under  the  Candelabra  101 

feather  curled  over  her  braids.  Laurence, 
waiting  at  the  foot  of  the  stair  to  put  her  into 
the  coach,  swung  his  hat  to  the  carpet  in 
homage  of  her  new  beauty. 

' '  Not  a  man  in  the  company  but  will  envy 
me  my  seat  in  your  carriage,"  he  said,  as  he 
took  the  place  opposite  her. 

At  Greenspring,  as  they  went  down  the  long 
room,  she  wras  suddenly  conscious  of  certain 
elbow-touchings  and  sly  glances  among  the 
company;  and  during  a  pause  of  the  crowd 
ahead  of  them,  she  heard  one  gossip  say  to 
another : 

"When  the  cat  is  away  the  mice  will  play." 

"Yes,"  was  the  answer.  "Propinquity  is 
the  best  match-maker  in  the  world.  We  may 
yet  go  to  Rivermead  to  a  wedding  not  in  the 
old  reckonings." 

"What  do  they  mean?"  Judith  whispered, 
wonderingly,  to  Laurence. 

"  Shall  I  ask  them  ? "  He  had  bent  down  so 
close  to  her,  and  there  was  such  a  teasing 
twinkle  in  his  eye  that  she  hastily  and  in  some 
confusion  moved  on.  As  they  made  their 
salutations  the  Governor  clapped  Laurence 
jovially  on  the  shoulder,  exclaiming: 

"Is  it  the  mauve  and  silver  of  your  coat, 
Falkner,  or  some  witchery  Mistress  Judith  has 


102  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

carried  into  the  atmosphere  of  Rivermead,  that 
makes  you  so  good  to  look  at  ? " 

"  Tis  the  coat,  your  Excellency,"  laughed 
Judith;  for  to  please  her  Laurence  had  taken 
to  dress  more  after  the  fashion  of  the  exiled 
courtier:;,  and  the  result  was  most  satisfactory. 

But  Laurence  declared  that  the  improve 
ment  in  his  looks,  if  there  were  any,  was  due  to 
his  cousin,  for  in  the  sunlight  of  her  presence  it 
were  a  sin  to  look  anything  but  one's  best. 
And  his  Excellency  clapped  him  again  upon  the 
back,  and  said  he  was  bettering  his  manners 
as  well  as  his  looks;  and  then  sent  them  down 
the  room  to  the  stately  swing  of  minuet  music. 

"  Propinquity  is  the  best  match-maker  in 
the  world,"  Judith  repeated  to  herself  later 
on,  as  she  watched  Ann,  all  in  red  like  some 
gorgeous  poppy,  hanging  on  Laurence's  arm 
for  the  reel.  Was  there  not  propinquity 
enough  in  the  neighbourliness  of  these  two 
and  their  families  ?  Cousin  Janet  was  right ; 
this  was  the  mistress  that  would  come  to 
Rivermead. 

It  was  a  brilliant  company,  many  of  whom 
had  not  met  before  since  they  had  gathered 
in  the  banquet-hall  of  the  "late  sainted  king," 
and  drank  destruction  to  the  Puritan  in 
bumpers  of  red  wine;  and  there  were  feasting 


Under  the  Candelabra  103 

and  dancing  while  the  moon  went  down  the  dim 
sky  and  the  candles  in  their  silver  sockets 
burned  slowly  out,  and  the  rose  garlands  on 
the  walls  drooped  and  withered.  To  Judith 
it  was  all  beautiful,  and  her  slippered  feet  were 
among  the  last  to  leave  the  floor.  And  then 
in  the  early  sunrise  weather  there  was  the  drive 
home,  with  Sir  Thomas  asleep  in  his  corner  and 
Laurence  to  repeat  all  the  pretty  things  that 
had  been  said  in  the  gentleman's  cloak-room  of 
"the  new  beauty  at  Rivermead. " 

"  'Tis  lovely  to  have  one's  imperfections 
covered  with  such  compliments.  I  feel  quite 
like  a  cake  whereon  the  sugar-frosting  has  been 
smoothly  laid. " 

"  The  cake  were  not  so  sweet —  "  he  began, 
but  she  lifted  her  finger  warningly. 

' '  I  have  taxed  your  gallantry  enough  for  one 
time — we  will  let  that  pass.  How  many  times 
did  you  dance  with  Ann,  Laurie?" 

"  Let  me  see;  I  think  it  was  twice. " 

"Only  twice!" 

"  Larry  Herrick  did  not  let  her  feel  lonely.  " 

"  How  I  dislike  that  man.  " 

"Why  so?" 

"Oh,  because  he  has  such  an  air  of  owner 
ship  with  a  girl.  I  do  not  like  to  be  so  appro 
priated  by  a  man. " 


104  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"I  know  one  man  who  would  give  his  good 
right  arm  to  appropriate  you." 

"There,  sir;  did  I  not  say  I  had  taxed  your 
gallantry  enough  ?  You  neglected  Ann  shame 
fully,  cousin;  you  should  have  asked  her  to 
dance  with  you  oftener  for  sake  of—  '  she 
laughed;  "for  sake  of  the  family  friendship.  " 

He  leaned  over  and  twisted  her  fan  ribbon 
between  his  fingers :  ' '  You  made  all  compen 
sation  to  the  'family  friendship' — you  danced 
with  Amos  three  times.  " 

"  You  counted  my  dances  ? " 

"  Every  one  of  them.  " 

She  looked  up  suddenly  from  the  ribbon  she 
had  been  watching  and  met  the  intent  look  in 
his  eyes.  "Laurie,  do  you  know  you  some 
times  seem — very  strange  to  me  ? "  she  faltered, 
for  somehow  his  eyes  made  her  tremble. 

"Is  it  strange  a  man  should  like  to  watch  a 
pretty  girl  who  dances  well?"  he  asked  lightly. 
"  Besides,  'twas  my  duty  to  watch  over  you 
lest  you  fall  in  with  an  awkward  partner." 
But  she  was  not  quite  satisfied  with  his  quick 
change  of  manner. 

She  wanted  to  talk  of  Ann,  but  when  she 
again  introduced  the  name  of  their  pretty 
friend  he  yawned  slightly  behind  his  hand,  and, 
pointing  through  the  window,  asked  her  if  she 


Under  the  Candelabra  105 

noticed,  by  the  roadside,  a  piece  of  ironweed 
purpling  to  its  bloom,  saying  it  was  the  first 
signal  of  summer's  capitulation. 

"You  have  such  queer  moods,  cousin,"  she 
said  petulantly;  "you  are  never  willing  for  me 
to  talk  of  Ann  or — Captain  Seton." 

"That  is  because  I  think  you  talk  more  en 
tertainingly  of  yourself  than  of  Ann,  and  be 
cause  I  am  to  myself  vastly  more  interesting 
than  Seton,  "  he  laughed,  as  he  leaned  back  and 
looked  at  her  from  half -closed  eyes.  "Come, 
now,  let  us  get  back  to  personalities;  what 
kind  of  partner  did  I  make  last  night  ? ' ' 

You  dance  much  better  than  you  talk  when 
you  are  in  this  quizzing  mood,  "  and  she  turned 
her  shoulder  on  him  and  looked  out  of  the 
window.  But  he  only  laughed  again.  "Pray 
do  not  move;  your  profile  is  excellent  against 
that  dark  cushion,"  he  said. 

Whereupon  she  covered  her  face  with  her 
lace  handkerchief  and  pretended  to  fall  asleep ; 
but  presently,  when  he  boldly  lifted  the  corner 
of  the  handkerchief,  her  eyes  were  wide  open, 
and  full  of  a  vague  wonder  as  to  the  new  note 
that  underlay  the  quizzing  in  his  voice. 

The  next  day  there  were  letters  from  Arthur, 
and  Judith  and  Ann  sat  late  that  night  braid 
ing  their  hair  and  talking  of  the  contents.  The 


io6  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

writer  reluctantly  acknowledged  that  Christmas 
would  not  find  Judith  returned  to  Cotslea,  such 
a  death-grip  did  Cromwell  seem  to  have  upon 
the  sceptre. 

"There  is  one  person  in  the  colony  who  will 
not  sorrow  if  Arthur  is  many  years  instead  of 
months  returning  to  Virginia,"  said  Ann, 
laughing 

"My  father?" 

"No;  though  the  same  can  be  said  of  him. 
This  other  one  is — Amos." 

"Amos!" 

"Yes ;  had  you  not  guessed,  Judith  ? " 

"Ann,  you  are  silly  beyond  the  telling!" 

"To  be  silly  is  no  greater  crime  than  to  be 
blind,"  was  the  teasing  answer.  "He  had 
eyes  for  no  one  but  you  at  the  ball  last  night. 
And  Harry  Beach,  too,  needs  only  a  little  en 
couragement  to  come  dangling  after  you.  Your 
preference  for  Arthur  has  blinded  you  just  as  an 
ostrich  blinds  itself  in  the  sand.  I  find  you 
more  than  silly  to  so  cut  yourself  off  from  ad 
miration." 

"Ann!" 

"There,  I  did  not  mean  to  anger  you;  but, 
my  dear,  I  find  your  honesty  very  distressing, 
and  your  conscientiousness  most  wearying." 

"  If  you  would  be  more  honest  in  vour  deal- 


Under  the  Candelabra  107 

ings  with  your  admirers  Laurence  would  go 
oftener  to  your  house." 

"Then  would  he  be  the  first  man  ever  made 
more  attentive  by  lack  of  opposition  in  his 
suit.  Believe  me,  Judith,  uncertainty  is  the 
strongest  string  that  ties  a  man's  fancy.  "  She 
fastened  the  black  braid  she  had  plaited,  and 
yawned  sleepily.  "  You  had  best  think  a  little 
about  Amos;  he  is  not  handsome,  and  he  is 
dismally  quiet,  but  'tis  a  good  thing  to  have 
two  strings  to  one's  bow — in  case  one  should 
snap,  you  know. " 

"1  shall  wait  until  my  first  one  snaps  before 
hunting  another." 

"  Which  proves  you  are  no  manager,  even  in 
things  of  the  heart.  I  am  several  years  your 
senior,  and  I  have  the  wisdom  of  my  superior 
age,  that  is  why  you  never  see  me  devoting 
all  my  thoughts  to  one  man.  "  She  leaned  over 
and  pulled  the  other  girl  toward  her.  "  I  wonder 
what  it  is  about  you  that  Arthur  found  so  irre 
sistible  ?  It  must  be  this  dimple,  or  else  that 
soft  way  you  have  of  lifting  your  eyes  and 
dropping  them  again.  If  you  had  a  grain  of 
the  coquette  in  you,  you  would  be  the  toast  of 
the  colony. " 

But  Judith,  dreaming  of  her  Cavalier  across 
the  sea,  gave  her  words  no  heed.  What  should 
any  other  man's  tenderness  mean  to  her? 


io8  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

A  few  days  later  Judith  found  herself  shut 
out  of  the  library  at  the  hour  she  usually  spent 
there  with  her  father  and  Laurence.  Amos 
Randal  had  come  on  business,  so  Matilda  told 
her,  and  she  was  not  to  go  in.  At  supper  she 
noticed  that  Laurence  was  preoccupied,  and 
when  they  left  the  porch  he  followed  his  mother 
into  her  room. 

"Mother,  can  you  rehearse  for  me  the  par 
ticulars  of  a  money  transaction  between  my 
father  and  James  Randal  some  eight  years 
ago?" 

"Surely  I  can.  It  was  the  summer  you  lay 
so  ill  of  the  fever.  We  were  in  sore  straights 
that  year  because  of  the  mildew  on  the  tobacco 
and  the  fire  in  London  which  burnt  our  property 
there.  Your  father  borrowed  £1,000  from 
James  Randal  to  finish  paying  for  the  clearing 
of  our  land  and  the  rebuilding  of  our  London 
house. " 

"Yes,  father  told  me  of  the  transaction 
when  I  was  recovered.  What  surety  did  he 
give  Master  Randal?" 

"His  note.  What  put  the  matter  in  your 
head  just  now?" 

"The  money  was  all  paid  back?"  he  asked, 
without  answering  her  question. 

"Certainly,  within  the  twelvemonth,  for  our 


Under  the  Candelabra  109 

crops  were  good  that  year,  and  we  sold  our 
London  property  to  great  advantage.  Why 
do  you  look  so  grave  over  a  matter  that  is 
done?" 

"It  troubles  me,  but  no  doubt  needlessly. 
Father  paid  the  money  back,  but  what  about 
the  note?" 

"That  he  never  got  again,  for  the  Randals 
could  never  find  it.  They  had  an  ugly  fire 
which  partly  destroyed  their  house,  and  they 
always  thought  it  was  burned  along  with  other 
valuable  papers." 

"  That  is  as  I  remembqr  my  father  telling  me 
the  matter;  but — it  was  not  burned.  Amos 
has  found  it  among  his  father's  old  papers, 
and  to-day  brought  it  to  me  for  payment." 

"Payment?  I  could  not  have  heard  aright, 
Laurence  !  It  was  all  paid  these  many  years 
ago." 

' '  I  am  sure  of  it  in  my  own  mind ,  but  it 
seems  there  is  no  record  of  the  settlement  on 
Master  Randal's  books,  and  he  died  without 
telling  any  one  of  it." 

"Not  even  his  wife?" 

"  No.  She  knew  the  money  was  loaned;  but 
the  payment  was  never  explained  to  her,  and 
the  whole  matter  was  transacted  while  Amos 
was  in  England  with  his  tutor." 


no  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

His  mother  shook  her  head  thoughtfully. 
"James  Randal's  ruling  passion  was  gaming; 
and  his  wife  was  as  strongly  set  against  it.  I 
remember  he  once  said  to  your  father  that  he 
never  told  her  of  his  losings;  it  is  quite  likely 
that  he  lost  this  money  that  way  and  was 
ashamed  to  confess  it." 

"Very  likely;  but  that  does  not  help  us  in 
our  present  trouble.  Amos  has  found  the 
note  duly  signed,  and  there  is  nowhere  any 
receipt  or  memorandum  of  its  settlement,  and 
naturally  he  asks  that  it  be  satisfied. " 

"We  can  satisfy  him  in  two  ways.  Your 
father  told  me  that  Seth  Perry  was  witness  to 
the  final  settlement ;  he  can  speak  for  us ;  and 
in  place  of  the  note,  James  Randal  gave  him  a 
receipt  stating  the  fact  that  the  original  note 
was  lost.  That  receipt  is  of  course  among  your 
father's  papers." 

"Then  is  all  plain  sailing;  though  I  do  not 
remember  seeing  the  document,  "  said  Laurence, 
rising  and  fetching  a  tin  box  from  a  locked 
drawer  of  his  desk. 

They  untied  the  packages  of  yellowing  papers 
and  read  the  label  on  each ;  but  the  special  one 
they  sought  was  not  in  the  box.  "  Never  mind ; 
it  is  doubtless  in  one  of  the  desk  drawers," 
said  Laurence.  "I  will  find  it  another  time; 


Under  the  Candelabra  1 1 1 

'tis  enough  to  know  that  it  is  in  the  house.  As 
I  said,  Amos  is  not  disposed  to  quarrel;  he  only 
wants  what  is  his  due." 

"This  is  all  most  'unfortunate  and  strange," 
sighed  the  mother;  "but  whatever  happens 
there  must  be  no  quarrel  between  the  families 
because  of  you  and  Ann. " 

"You  still  cling  to  that  fancy,  mother?" 

"  Yes,  for  I  think  that  way  lies  your  happi 
ness;  and  it  has  grieved  me  of  late,  my  son, 
to  see  how  careless  you  are  of  your  chances.  I 
am  an  old  woman,  Laurence,  and  one  day  you 
may  be  left  alone,  without  a  mistress  for  your 
house ;  then  will  you  be  sorry  you  did  not  take 
a  wife. " 

' '  Heaven  grant  the  time  you  leave  me  be  far 
removed.  You  should  have  had  a  daughter, 
mother." 

"A  daughter-in-law  would  content  me  quite 
as  well . ' ' 

He  fingered  the  box  he  held  nervously,  as 
though  he  wanted  to  say  something,  yet  hesi 
tated.  "  Well,  perchance  some  day— 

"  Some  day  you  will  bring  me  Ann." 

"  I  hope  to  bring  you  some  one  you  will  love; 
more  than  that  I  cannot  say.  Good-night  now. 
Think  no  more  of  this  affair  of  the  note ;  it  will 
adjust  itself." 


ii2  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

And  so  the  question  was  dropped.  They  had 
come  upon  so  many  things  which  Charles  Falk- 
ner  had  hidden  away  during  those  blank  days 
of  his  failing  life  that  they  never  doubted  but 
that  the  note  would  be  forthcoming  when 
needed. 


CHAPTER   X. 

A   DANCE   AND   A   DICE    BOX. 

"  The  die  rang  sideways,  cracked  and  fell, 

Rang,  cracked  and  fell 
Like  a  man's  laughter  heard  in  hell  — 
Far  down,  Faustina.  " 

—  SWINBURXK. 


candles  in  their  pewter  holders 
flamed  and  spluttered  and  winked  in 
Sutley's  gaming  den.  The  air  of  the 
summer  night  was  heavy  with  tobacco  smoke 
and  the  fumes  of  wine.  Good  fortune  had 
stood  at  the  old  man's  elbow,  and  among  those 
who  had  lost  their  silver  to  him  there  were  now 
black  looks  and  a  whisper  of  something  wrong. 
Sutley  felt  the  brooding  discontent,  and  turned 
to  the  safety  that  never  failed  him.  Lissa's 
twinkling  feet  had  danced  down  many  a  danger 
for  him  ;  she  could  save  him  now. 

"  Go,  dance,  "  he  said,  pushing  her  in  from  the 
rear  room.  But  she  hung  back  —  there  were 
many  empty  bottles  under  the  table,  and  Tony 
was  not  there  to-night.  She  wanted  to  go  in 
stead  to  her  garret  and  the  quiet  of  its  shadow  ; 


ii4  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

but  the  men  had  seen  her  through  the  door  and 
shouted  for  her  to  enter. 

"Dance — dance  like  the  devil  was  in  your 
heels,"  her  father  whispered,  with  another 
push ;  and  blew  a  few  sweet  notes  on  his  reed 
whistle. 

The  shove  had  sent  her  to  the  middle  of  the 
room,  whe.re  she  stood  irresolute,  the  light 
f ocussed  on  her  faded  green  skirt  and  loose  white 
bodice,  short  of  sleeve  and  open  at  the  throat. 
Behind  her  ear  was  a  bunch  of  crimson  Indian- 
pinks.  The  men  began  to  applaud,  forgetting  in 
the  pleasure  of  her  comeliness  their  grievances. 
Sutley  broke  into  a  dancing  measure,  to  which 
the  others  beat  time.  Slowly  Lissa  began  to 
move,  one  hand  on  her  hip,  her  tambourine 
swinging  at  her  side.  She  did  not  like  the  looks 
of  the  men  sitting,  some  on  the  tables,  some  on 
the  tilted  chairs.  The  music  of  the  whistle  was 
insistent,  imperative,  calling  alluringly  to  her 
feet;  but  she  was  wishing  Tony  was  there  in 
his  place  by  the  window.  Then  suddenly  she 
began  to  dance  with  spirit ;  the  tambourine 
answered  the  whistle,  for  Larry  Herrick  was 
singing  the  air  that  Sutley  played ;  and  though 
the  others  caught  but  the  sound  of  his  singing, 
she  heard,  vibrating  through  the  dulcet  notes, 
a  call  to  her  heart,  Listening,  she  quickened 


.-1  Dance  and  a  Dice  Box  115 

her  movements,  looking  at  him  out  of  the 
velvet  softness  of  her  eyes,  answering  him  with 
the  smile  on  her  lips.  Then  presently  he 
sprang  to  her  side  and,  still  singing,  snatched 
her  hand,  caught  the  step  with  her,  and  round 
and  round  the  room  they  went  while  the  whistle 
shrilled  or  softened  and  shrilled  again,  and  the 
watchers  struck  out  the  time  with  their  palms 
and  shouted  their  applause.  Now  it  was  a 
swinging  minuet  measure,  now  a  livelier  reel, 
now  the  clattering  shoe-jargon  of  a  jig.  Larry's 
strong  arms  swung  her  left  or  right,  or  held  her 
fast,  as  the  whistle  leaped  from  quick  to  slow 
and  the  smiting  hands  went  on,  and  the  thump 
of  the  tambourine,  striking  hand  and  elbow, 
pucturcd  the  rhythmic  dinn  with  its  sweet 
jangle.  Forgetful  of  her  first  hesitancy,  un 
mindful  of  Tony's  absence,  she  yielded  herself 
to  the  spell  of  the  moment,  her  lithe  body  like 
a  willow  \vand  in  the  fluctuating  breath  of  the 
music.  Around  the  room  and  down  the  floor 
from  window  to  chimney  and  back  again  they 
danced,  past  the  table,  where,  with  a  quick 
fanning  movement  of  his  hat,  Larry  swept  out 
the  flame  of  the  candles,  then  across  the  floor 
in  the  dark  and  straight  on  through  the  open 
door  into  the  cool  outer  night,  where,  beside 
the  cabin  wall,  the  dance  ended  with  his  hot 
lips  at  her  throat. 


u6  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Where  was  Tony  Foster  that  the  serpent 
crept  thus  close  to  Lissa's  feet  ?  Where  was  the 
single  gun  that  had  been  as  an  arsenal  between 
her  and  harm  all  these  years  ? 

But  Tony  saw  the  change  in  her  during  the 
following  days.  She  went  as  one  in  a  dream, 
too  content  even  to  sing;  and  he  watched  for 
the  cause.  It  was  Harry  Beach  who  told  him 
of  the  dance,  and  he  looked  to  the  priming  of 
his  gun  and  waited. 

"He's  meaning  no  good  by  you,  Lissa;  and 
he's  setting  tongues  a-wagging.  Send  him 
off  like  an  honest  girl,  and  come  back  here 
with  your  sewing,"  he  urged.  But  the  girl 
pushed  him  away  and  went  on  with  her  dream ; 
for  Larry  was  at  the  cabin  every  day  now,  and 
she  danced  for  no  one  else  unless  he  said  so. 
But  it  was  a  castle  of  cards  she  had  built  and 
thought  it  founded  on  stone;  and  after  a  few 
weeks  it  fell  to  ruins,  for  Larry  suddenly  ceased 
to  come  to  the  cabin  by  the  river.  Some  said 
it  was  because  Tony  Foster  neglected  his  ware 
house  to  sit  so  often  at  Sutley's  window,  and 
others  averred  that  Ann  Randal  had  caught 
the  young  gallant's  fancy  and  reformed  him. 
And  each  night,  after  a  weary  wait,  Lissa  took 
the  flowers  from  her  hair  and  threw  them  passion 
ately  aside ;  where  was  the  use  to  deck  herself  if 


A  Dance  and  a  Dice  Box  117 

no  one  came  to  see  ?  In  vain  the  other  men 
rattled  their  dice  boxes  at  her,  and  dropped 
their  coins  in  her  empty  tankards;  she  had  no 
smile  for  any  one,  and  the  reed  whistle  called  in 
vain  to  her  heavy  feet. 

"  Tis  as  I  told  you,"  Tony  said  in  his  high, 
thin  voice,  when  she  crept  to  him  on  the  ware 
house  steps  while  the  game  in  the  cabin  went  on. 
"  He'll  squeeze  the  heart  out  o'  your  body,  and 
then  ask  some  fine  lady  to  take  his  dirty  name ; 
'tis  the  way  of  his  kind." 

"He  must  love  me;  he  said  it  so  often,"  the 
girl  said  piteously. 

"Love's  not  a  hard  word  to  pronounce — 
with  the  lips, "  was  the  answer.  "  He's  always 
at  the  Randals'  now,  dangling  after  Ann.  I 
warrant  you  he  says  that  same  word  of  love  to 
her  twenty  times  a  day." 

And  Lissa  took  to  watching  for  him  as  he  rode 
with  Ann  through  the  woods  or  by  the  river. 
Crouching  behind  a  tree  trunk  or  in  the  tangled 
reeds,  she  often  saw  them  pass,  Larry  bending 
ever  out  of  his  saddle  to  his  companion,  his 
manner  filled  with  wordless  admiration;  his 
head  bared  now  and  then  as  if  in  reverent 
adoration.  And  the  hidden  girl  clinched  her 
fists  in  impotent  rage,  and  stole  home  to  her 
garret  with  a  great  fear  whitening  her  face; 


u8  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

hating  Ann,  hating  her  with  the  unleashed 
fury  of  a  first-awakened  jealousy.  And  the 
scar  on  Tony's  forehead  grew  livid  when  he  saw 
her  face ;  but  when  he  reached  for  his  gun,  Lissa 
caught  his  arm  and  held  it. 

But  one  morning,  slipping  through  the  reeds 
with  an  armful  of  water-lilies,  she  came  sud 
denly  upon  Judith,  Amos,  Ann  and  Larry,  who 
had  been  on  the  river  for  a  row.  She  would  have 
stepped  back  into  the  reeds,  but  Judith  cried 
out  in  delight  at  sight  of  the  lilies,  and  Amos, 
wishing  to  please  her,  said  he  was  sure  Lissa 
would  give  her  one.  Answering  the  smile  in 
Judith's  eyes,  Lissa  held  out  a  handful  of  the 
blossoms. 

"And  I,  too,  love  lilies,"  said  Larry,  ex 
tending  his  hand  engagingly.  "Will  your 
generosity  extend  to  an  old  friend  ? " 

The  light  left  Lissa 's  face,  for  Ann  was  on 
his  other  side;  then  in  a  moment  everything 
faded  from  her  but  the  eyes  that  had  made  her 
heaven,  and  when  he  took  a  step  nearer  her,  still 
holding  out  his  hand,  she  selected  for  him  the 
most  perfect  flower  of  her  collection.  She  meant 
it  as  a  token  of  her  forgiveness  for  his  neglect, 
and  her  eyes  told  her  meaning. 

"That  is  very  kind  of  you,  my  pretty  lass; 
take  this  for  your  pains,"  and  he  tossed  her  a 


A  Dance  and  a  Dice  Box  119 

piece  of  silver,  turning  as  he  did  so  to  the  girl 
at  his  right :  "A  flower  so  perfect  as  this  could 
have  bloomed  only  for  you,"  he  said,  bowing 
low. 

Ann  took  the  blossom  and  held  it  against  her 
breast,  laughing  up  at  him.  But  with  a  sudden 
fierce  gesture  Lissa  reached  out  and  struck  it 
from  her  hand  and  set  her  foot  upon  it  in  the 
dust  of  the  road,  her  eyes  blazing  over  the  two 
like  a  leaping  flame.  Then  before  any  one 
could  speak,  she  hurled  the  coin  back  at  Larry, 
striking  him  full  upon  the  breast,  and  was  gone 
into  the  rustling  river  reeds,  leaving  behind  her 
but  the  hissing  sound  of  an  angry  sob. 

The  four  left  in  the  road  looked  at  each  other 
gapingly;  the  shadow  of  a  tragedy  seemed  to 
have  lain  along  their  path.  Then  Ann  laughed. 

"The  spitfire!  Pick  up  your  silver,  Master 
Herrick,  and  be  glad  'tis  not  a  bullet  in  your 
heart;  there  was  murder  in  yonder  wench's 
eyes. " 

And  in  the  warehouse,  with  her  head  against 
Tony's  high  desk,  Lissa  was  sobbing  out  the 
pain  of  her  heart. 

"He  would  have  paid  me  for  the  flower  I 
gave  him — would  have  shamed  me  with  his 
money  before  them  all;  that  was  bad  enough, 
but  to  give  my  flower  to  her — to  say  it  had 
bloomed  for  her! ' ' 


I2O 


The  Wooing  of  Judith 


Tony  looked  from  the  bowed  head  up  to  his 
gun ;  perhaps  after  all  he  would  not  have  to  use 
it;  contempt  sometimes  killed  love,  and  this 
might  open  Lissa's  eyes. 

' '  The  man  who  needlessly  shames  one  woman 
before  another  who  is  her  rival  has  the  devil's 
hoof -marks  in  his  heart,"  he  said.  "  He  has 
already  told  Harry  Beach  that  though  you  are 
now  at  outs,  yet  he  can  whistle  you  back  at 
will." 

That  night  Larry  called  under  Lissa's  win 
dow,  but  she  did  not  answer.  The  next  day 
he  sent  her  a  rope  of  beads  with  the  red  of  her 
own  lips  shining  in  them;  but  she  would  not 
touch  them  or  send  him  so  much  as  a  word  of 
message;  and  when  she  poured  the  wine  for 
the  gamesters  that  night  she  skipped  his  glass 
and  gave  him  not  even  a  look  as  she  passed. 
Then  the  fiend  in  him  awoke.  That  night  and 
for  many  other  nights  he  came  and  diced  with 
no  one  but  Sutley.  Each  time  it  was  the  old 
man  he  challenged,  refusing  the  invitations  of 
others;  and  fortune  sat  beside;  him — Sutley's 
hidden  earnings  gradually  melted  into  Larry's 
pocket;  then  the  pewter  mugs  and  tankards 
were  staked ;  even  the  dice  boxes  from  which 
they  made  their  casts  became  Larry's ;  then  the 
cabin  itself  was  played  for  and  lost.  Staringly 


A   Dance   and  a  Dice  Box  121 

Sutley  sat  gazing  about  him ;  he  was  again  a 
beggar  with  only  his  reed  whistle,  and  what 
would  that  be  worth  without  Lissa's  twinkling 
feet?  For  since  this  quarrel  with  Larry  she 
would  not  dance.  Already  there  was  no  drink 
in  the  house ;  to-morrow  hunger  would  bite  at 
his  vitals. 

Then  Larry  poured  a  glass  of  wine  and 
pushed  it  to  him,  and  leaning  over  the  table 
whispered  that  he  was  not  ruined,  that  he  had 
yet  his  highest  stake — Lissa;  that  for  one  kiss 
from  Lissa  he  would  risk  all  his  earnings  of  the 
six  nights.  And  Sutley,  dull  with  the  wine  and 
sodden  with  long  years  of  world-evil,  overlook 
ing  the  insult  for  the  chance  it  held,  turned 
again  to  the  table  and  gathered  the  dice  with 
feverish  haste. 

In  the  loft  above  them,  Lissa  lay  prone  on  the 
floor  and  watched  the  game  through  a  slit  in 
the  plank,  dimly  comprehending  that  in  some 
way  she  was  concerned  therein — watched  every 
throw  as  the  white  cubes  spilt  and  fell  and  were 
gathered  again,  watched,  and  saw  her  father 
lose. 

"Call  the  girl,"  said  Larry. 

But  when,  in  obedience  to  that  command, 
her  father's  voice  came  up  the  ladder,  she  did 
not  answer,  for  a  fearful  quaking  was  in  her 


122  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

limbs.  He  did  not  want  her  to  dance,  for  he  had 
not  his  whistle.  What  then?  What  was  the 
meaning  of  the  dull  despair  in  his  bloated  face  ? 
and  the  triumphant  laugh  in  Larry's  eyes  ?  Her 
knees  shook  under  her;  she  would  not  go,  she 
dared  not. 

"Nay,  trouble  yourself  no  more;  I  will  seek 
her,  for  I  wish  to  tell  her  how  beautiful  she  is 
in  her  anger,  how  fine  she  was  in  the  wood  the 
other  day,"  and  calling  alluringly  to  her,  he 
thrust  Sutley  aside  and  laid  his  hand  on  the 
ladder. 

Her  untutored  heart  belonged  to  this  man ; 
every  drop  of  the  wild  blood  in  her  body  had 
cried  out  for  him  for  days ;  but  she  would  have 
died  rather  than  wait  there  alone  under  the 
dropping  eaves  for  him.  The  batten  shutter  in 
the  gable  was  open;  it  was  ten  feet  to  the 
ground  beneath,  but  she  was  over  the  sill  in  a 
moment,  and  as  Larry's  head  showed  through 
the  ladder  opening,  she  dropped  to  the  grass 
beneath.  For  one  moment  she  leaned  against 
the  wall,  her  hand  to  her  heart,  listening  to 
Larry's  voice  calling  her  softly,  tenderly  in  the 
loft  above,  and  to  her  father's  muttered  oaths 
beside  the  dice  boxes;  then  she  fled  into  the 
moonless  night. 

But  Larry  knew  who  hid  her  in  her  hours  of 


A  Dance  and  a  Dice  Box  123 

need;  and  so  almost  before  Tony  could  reach 
his  desk  again  after  putting  her  in  safety, 
he  stood  in  the  warehouse  door.  For  a  long 
minute  the  two  men,  standing  in  the  narrow 
circle  of  candlelight,  looked  into  each  other's 
faces  and  gauged  each  other's  strength  of  body 
and  of  purpose. 

"I  diced  for  her  and  won  her,"  Larry  said. 
"She  loves  me,  and  I  mean  to  have  her." 

But  Tony  did  not  move  a  muscle ;  only  his 
flaming  eyes  told  that  he  heard. 

"Will  you  stand  aside  and  let  me  seek  her 
peaceably,  or  must  I  give  that  ugly  body  of 
yours  an  extra  twist  ?  for  she  is  here,  I  know. " 

"She  is  here,  yes.  But  you  take  her  away 
only  over  my  dead  body." 

Larry  laughed  in  that  soft  way  of  his :  "  You 
are  a  small,  misshpaen  man,  Tony  Foster,  and 
I  am  near  upon  six  feet.  I  pray  you  why 
should  you  risk  yourself  for  her  ?  She  would 
not  look  at  a  little  crooked  thing  like  you, 
save  to  do  her  fetching  and  carrying." 

"  I  have  not  asked  her  to  look  at  me  save  for 
that,"  was  the  quiet  answer,  though  the  gibe 
had  made  the  muscles  in  Tony's  arms  like  iron. 
He  was  watching  cat-like  for  a  chance  to  seize 
his  gun. 

Behind  the  tobacco  casks  in  the  far  corner 


124  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Lissa  quaked  and  trembled — the  angry  voices 
reaching  her,  but  not  all  the  words. 

"  Well,  well,  I  have  pleasanter  things  in  view 
than  talking  here  with  you,"  Larry  said,  with 
a  look  in  his  eyes  that  made  the  scar  on  Tony's 
forehead  like  a  purple  band.  "Stand  aside 
there  and  let  me  pass.  You  want  her  yourself, 
do  you  ?  Well,  when  your  betters  have  grown 
tired- 

But  he  did  not  finish,  for  the  ink-horn  under 
Tony's  hand  whirled  through  the  air  and  struck 
him  on  the  mouth.  Then  with  an  oath  they 
were  at  each  other's  throats,  a  fierce  joy  in 
Tony's  heart  that  the  fight  had  come  at  last. 
He  knew  the  odds  were  against  him,  but  every 
curse  he  uttered  was  a  relief,  every  blow  he 
struck  was  an  ecstasy.  If  Larry  had  thought 
to  sweep  him  easily  from  his  path,  he  had  for 
gotten  the  strength  of  those  long  arms ;  nor  did 
he  perhaps  realize  that  his  own  better  nature 
was  fighting  on  the  cripple's  side.  Round  and 
round  the  circle  of  yellow  light  they  tossed  and 
strained,  grotesque  in  their  writhings,  grimly 
silent.  And  the  girl  behind  the  casks  hearing 
but  not  seeing,  wrung  her  hands  in  a  dumb 
agony.  Who  was  winning  out  there  in  the 
open  space — he  who  fought  for  her  body,  or  he 
who  fought  for  her  soul? 


A  Dance  and  a  Dice  Box  125 

Then  suddenly  Tony  went  down  tinder  his 
opponent's  greater  weight,  and  a  long,  trium 
phant  "A-h!"  came  hissing  from  Larry's  lips. 
And  the  girl  behind  the  casks,  hearing  it,  hid 
her  white  face  in  her  hands.  But  in  falling 
Tony  had  reached  the  knife  in  his  belt ;  and  as 
Larry,  thinking  him  conquered,  let  go  his 
strangling  hold  and  drew  back,  the  blade 
flashed  momentarily  in  the  faint  light,  and 
then  was  sheathed  in  Larry's  breast.  The 
sibilant  "Ah"  turned  to  a  scream  of  pain  as 
the  big  man  rolled  over ;  and  in  that  moment 
Tony  regained  his  feet  and  sprang  to  his  gun. 
But  there  was  no  use  for  it,  the  figure  on  the 
floor  lay  so  still  save  for  a  convulsive  quivering 
of  the  relaxed  muscles. 

"Damn  you!  You'll  dice  no  more  for  gold 
or  women,"  Tony  muttered,  and  stooped  to 
pick  up  the  bloody  knife.  Then  turned,  for 
some  one  touched  him  on  the  arm.  As  white 
as  her  own  wraith,  Lissa  stood  beside  him  and 
pointed  with  a  shaking  ringer  to  the  man 
stretched  at  their  feet. 

"I  have  saved  you,  Lissa;  he'll  trouble  you 
no  more,"  Tony  said,  and  would  have  taken 
her  hand.  But  writh  a  fierce  gesture  of  re 
pulsion  she  snatched  it  away  and  sank  to  her 
knees  beside  Larry. 


126  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"My  God,  Lissa,  what  do  you  mean?  Do 
not  look  at  me  like  that !  It  was  for  you  I 
did  it — for  you  !" 

But  the  accusing  light  did  not  leave  her  eyes. 
Her  outward-turned  palm  warned  him  off. 

"Do  not  touch  me;  do  not  speak  to  me! 
You  have  killed  him — killed  him  !— and  you 
knew  that  I  loved  him  ! ' '  And  her  head  went 
down  beside  that  other  stricken  one  on  the 
blood-stained  floor. 


CHAPTER   XL 

A    THREAD    OF    GOLD. 

"And  the  pattern  laid  out  was  lilied  with  love, 
And  the  weaver's  shuttle  was  threaded  with  gold." 

— S.  B.  K. 

TT  was  October  at  Rivermead.  All  day  a 
-*-  faint  blue  haze  hung  about  the  far  tree- 
tops  and  low  hills;  but  in  the  evening, 
fired  by  the  sunset,  it  floated  upward,  a  crimson 
cloud  of  incense  to  the  god  of  harvests.  The 
air  had  in  it  a  taste  of  frost,  making  it  winey 
like  some  rare  vintage  which  nature  brews 
for  her  chosen  children.  The  "  honk, 
honk"  of  the  migrating  waterfowl  was  heard 
now  and  then  high  overhead ;  the  woods  blazed 
as  with  the  red  and  yellow  torches  of  the 
Ghebers;  birds  sang  their  farewell  roundelays 
above  the  rifled  harvest  fields,  and  butterflies 
took  their  last  dizzy  flights  among  the  fading 
flowers.  Everywhere  were  peace  and  the 
sweet  homely  sounds  that  tell  of  preparations 
against  the  coming  snows — the  creak  of  wagons 
drawing  home  the  winter's  store;  the  thud  of 
127 


The  Wooing  of  Judith 

flails  beating  out  the  sweet  kernels  for  the 
winter's  loaf;  the  ring  of  the  wood-cutter's  axe, 
with  a  promise  of  warmth  and  ruddy  fire-glow 
in  its  resonance. 

All  these  sounds  came  to  Laurence  one 
morning  as  he  crossed  the  yard  to  the  horse- 
rack,  Snap, his  favourite  dog,  at  his  heels.  The 
seven  months  since  the  coming  of  the  Cavalier 
maid  to  his  house  had  changed  the  world  to  him. 
The  influence  of  early  days — those  days 
when,  unreproved,  she  had  scraped  the  jam 
from  his  bread  to  spread  upon  her  own;  when 
he  had  carried  her  in  his  arms  over  the  brooks 
or  through  the  snowdrifts ;  when  he  had  covered 
up  her  faults  with  an  assumption  of  blame  to 
himself,  and  so  stood  between  her  and  his 
mother's  reproof — the  influence  of  those  days 
was  upon  him  with  a  new  tenderness.  He  had 
always  known  how  it  would  be  with  him  should 
he  meet  her  after  she  came  to  womanhood.  He 
loved  her  so  that  all  things  associated  with  her 
daily  life  had  a  touch  of  sanctity.  From  the 
day  of  Seton's  departure  there  had  been  an 
unceasing  strife  in  his  breast.  He  longed  to 
yield  himself  entirely  to  the  spell  of  his  passion ; 
and  yet  there  was  ever  the  haunting  thought  of 
Seton's  return,  and  the  desperate  pain  that 
must  then  be  his. 


A  Thread  of  Gold  129 

It  was  of  this  he  was  thinking  as  he  reached 
the  horse-rack  and  untied  Powhatan's  bridle, 
Snap  leaping  to  his  saddle-skirts  with  joy  at 
the  coming  run  over  the  fields.  As  he  passed 
the  honeysuckle  arbor  a  voice  from  within 
hailed  him. 

"Whither  away,  Sir  Horseman?" 

He  drew  rein,  smiling  at  the  dainty  figure 
and  radiant  face  framed  like  some  rare  picture 
in  the  trailing  emerald  of  the  arbor  entrance. 

"  To  the  cider  press  in  the  far  orchard.  " 

"May  I  come  with  you?" 

"  I  am  sorry,  Judith;  but  the  horses  have  all 
been  put  to  graze  in  the  lower  pasture.  I  wish 
you  had  spoken  sooner—  To-morrow— 

"To-morrow  may  not  please  me;  I  wish  to 
go  now.  Will  not  Powhatan  carry  double?" 

"With  the  stable  boys,  yes;  but  I  know  not 
how  he  would  like  those  be-frilled  skirts  of 
yours,"  he  answered,  a  sudden  thumping 
sensation  at  his  heart. 

"  Well,  let  us  see  how  he  takes  to  them, "  she 
cried,  throwing  down  her  book  and  tying  her 
bonnet  securely  over  her  braids.  He  hesitated, 
glancing  from  her  to  the  horse.  "  Oh,  you  need 
not  be  afraid;  I  shall  not  fall  off,  if  so  you  let 

me  hold  on  tight See  how  long  my  arms 

are . ' '  She  stretched  her  arms  above  her  head  as 


130  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

she  spoke,  her  face  lifted  to  his.  Cloistered 
hermit,  with  penance  of  hair  shirt  and  stripes 
ahead  of  him,  had  yielded  to  that  sweet  temp 
tation. 

"Shall  we  go  back  to  the  horse-block?" 
"No;  for  should  Cousin  Janet  see  us  she 
would  be  sure  to  say  it  was  not  decorous,  or 
that  the  sun  would  burn  the  tip  of  my  nose ; 
and  my  heart  is  set  on  going,  it  is  so  dismally 
dull  here  by  myself." 

He  shook  his  foot  from  the  stirrup  and  held 
out  his  hand;  and  in  another  minute  she  was 
behind  him,  and  had  passed  her  right  arm 
about  him  so  that  she  grasped  the  button  on 
the  breast  of  his  coat.  And  then  they  rode 
away,  laughing  like  a  couple  of  runaway  chil 
dren,  keeping  close  to  the  hedge  to  be  out  of 
sight  of  the  windows  until  they  reached  the 
open  field  whence  the  tobacco  had  been  gath 
ered.  Laurence's  brain  was  in  a  whirl;  all  the 
dormant  tenderness  of  his  heart  was  aroused, 
and  his  eyes  went  momentarily  to  the  white 
hand  grasping  his  coat.  Not  the  concentrated 
riches  of  the  world  could  have  brought  him 
such  happiness  as  that  clinging  arm.  Seton's 
return,  his  own  sure  anguish  in  the  future,  were 
alike  forgotten.  The  day  was  his  by  right  of  love 
and  youth  and  happiness ;  let  to-morrow  take 


A  Thread  of  Gold  131 

care  of  the  things  of  itself,  he  would  quaff  this 
new  goblet  of  joy  to  the  last  drop.  A  mild-eyed 
cow  peeped  at  them  through  a  gap  in  the  hedge ; 
a  flock  of  sheep  lifted  their  heads  from  the 
mellow  grass  to  stare  a  moment  as  they  passed ; 
and  a  covey  of  quail  went  whirring  up  from  the 
stubble  at  Powhatan's  feet,  making  him  shy 
with  a  quick  movement.  Instantly  the  arm 
about  Laurence  tightened  its  clasp,  sending  his 
blood  through  its  channels  in  a  storm  of  happi 
ness.  Seton  was  forgotten ;  the  possible  pain 
of  renunciation  was  no  longer  remembered. 

Unconscious  of  the  emotion  she  had  aroused, 
Judith  sat  in  her  place  singing  bits  of  song  or 
making  jokes  about  the  objects  they  passed; 
and  he  answered  her  in  the  same  vein,  taking  a 
circuitous  route  to  the  orchard  to  prolong  the 
ride,  and  also  because  that  way  would  take 
them  over  the  brook,  for  he  knew  that  as 
Powhatan  climbed  the  steep  bank  she  must 
again  tighten  her  hold  upon  him. 

"You  knew  not  what  you  bargained  for 
when  you  gave  me  leave  to  hold  fast  to  you," 
she  laughed,  when  the  horse  had  scrambled 
up  the  rough  incline. 

'Tis  a  lucky  man  who  gets  a  surplus  when 
the  bargain  is  a  happy  one. " 

Powhatan  chafed  at  the  restraint  upon  him, 


132  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

but  even  at  their  slow  pace  the  cider  press  was 
finally  reached.  There  Laurence  drew  rein, 
and  William  brought  a  cup  of  the  sweet  juice 
to  Judith,  who  put  it  a  moment  to  her  lips,  and 
then,  with  a  grimace,  passed  it  on  to  Laurence. 
He  held  the  cup  a  moment,  saying: 

"Let  me  first  think  of  a  toast." 

"  I  will  give  it  to  you:  '  The  future  mistress 
of  Rivermead,  "  she  cried,  thinking  of  Ann. 

He  twisted  about  in  his  saddle  that  he  might 
look  at  her,  and  his  eyes  had  a  certain  daring 
quality  that  she  had  never  seen  in  them  before. 

"I  accept  your  toast  willingly,  seeing  I  may 
select  her  in  my  thoughts." 

"A  silent  toast  is  very  trying  to  the  curiosity 
of  the  spectators,"  she  protested  whimsically, 
as  he  drained  the  cup. 

"  But  none  the  less  efficacious  of  good  luck,  I 
hope." 

As  they  went  in  and  out  among  the  baskets 
and  trees,  the  slaves  looked  after  them  with 
knowing  nods,  for  they  made  a  picture  that  was 
good  to  see.  Under  the  fruited  boughs  of  a 
great  tree  Judith  reached  for  an  apple. 

"That  forbidden  fruit  of  Eden  must  have 
looked  like  this.  And  true  to  that  old  tradition 
you  are  letting  the  woman  pluck  the  apple  for 
you,"  she  laughed,  holding  one  over  his  shoul- 


A  Thread  of  Gold  133 

der.  "  'Tis  delicious;  but  should  any  harm 
come  to  you  from  the  eating,  the  old  Adam  in 
you  will  rise  up  and  say:  'The  woman  is  to 
blame,  for  she  did  give  it  me. ' ' 

"I  suppose  I  would,"  he  answered,  "know 
ing  that  if  I  did  otherwise  the  Eve  in  you  would 
be  grievously  disappointed." 

"You  must  have  been  eating  'needle  soup,' 
as  my  old  nurse  used  to  say  when  I  was  in 
clined  to  be  teasing,"  she  replied,  sinking  her 
teeth  in  the  red  apple  she  held. 

He  lingered  about  the  press  and  among  the 
pickers  until  there  seemed  no  longer  any  possi 
ble  excuse,  then  turned  reluctantly  homeward. 
The  hour  had  been  full  of  a  dangerous  sweetness 
for  which  he  must  later  pay  the  penalty. 

"  Well,  and  do  you  feel  any  wiser  since  eating 
my  apple  of  knowledge  ?"  Judith  asked,  as  with 
one  arm  about  him  and  her  other  hand  upon  his 
shoulder,  she  steadied  herself  while  the  horse 
went  down  and  up  the  brook's  sloping  sides, 
and  his  blood  was  again  storming  at  heart  and 
brain. 

He  turned  his  head  and  looked  at  her  a 
moment  before  answering:  "There  is  but  one 
bit  of  knowledge  I  crave,  and  I  fear  I  am  as  far 
from  that  as  ever." 

"And  what  may  that  be,  0  disappointed 
Adam?" 


134  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"The  knowledge  that  teaches  a  man  to  win 
the  maid  for  whom  his  heart  doth  weary.  " 

"  Tis  a  knowledge  that  comes  not,  methinks, 
from  the  eating  of  one  small  apple,  but  from 
much  study  of  the  maid  herself. " 

"  And  how  must  such  a  study  be  conducted  ? " 

"My  observation  is  not  very  wide,  and  my 
experience  even  less  so ;  but  it  seems  to  me  the 
most  successful  suitor  is  he  who  notes  what 
pleases  a  girl,  and  then  sometimes  does  what 
displeases  her." 

"That  sounds  like  the  rule  of  contrary,"  he 
laughed. 

"Well,  father  says  most  women  are  cut  ac 
cording  to  that  rule." 

Again  he  looked  over  his  shoulder,  and  this 
time  his  eyes  were  bold  and  searching:  "And 
how  about  yourself — are  you  fashioned  by  that 
rule?" 

"  You  horrid'  quiz  !  you  know  I  am  not,  "  she 
protested,  and  reaching  up  she  mischievously 
tweaked  him  by  the  e,ar  as  she  used  to  do  when 
she  was  a  child.  Before  she  could  take  her  hand 
away  he  had  caught  it  in  his,  and  although  she 
pulled  hard  he  did  not  let  go.  He  did  not 
speak  for  a  moment,  but  she  felt  his  hand 
tremble. 

"What  did  I  used  to  do  to  you  when  you 


A  Thread  of  Gold  135 

mistreated  me  at  Cotslea  ? "  he  asked  presently, 
with  something  in  his  voice  that  stirred  her  own 
pulse. 

"I — I  think  I  have  forgotten,"  she  faltered. 

"  I  used  to  kiss  you. "  He  spoke  slowly  and 
scarcely  out  of  a  whisper.  The  thrill  in  his 
fingers  communicated  itself  momentarily  to 
hers.  What  queer  spell  was  on  Laurie  to-day  ? 
Then  presently  she  laughed. 

"  Yes,  but  I  was  a  little  girl  then.  " 

"It  may  be  an  exaggeration,  but  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  a  grown  girl  was  sweeter  to 
kiss  than  a  little  one."  Again  he  was  looking 
at  her  with  that  same  daring  in  his  eyes,  and 
she  felt  herself  flush  and  tremble. 

"Well,  when  you  pluck  up  courage  to  ask 
Ann  to  marry  you,  you  will  find  out  for  your 
self, "  she  answered,  releasing  her  hand  with  a 
violent  pull. 

"If  I  do  not  find  out  until  Ann  consents  to 
become  my  wife,  I  fear  I  shall  never  know." 

"Do  you  doubt  her  preference  so  much?" 
she  asked,  forgetting  instantly  that  new  look 
in  his  eyes  and  the  tingling  clasp  of  his  hand. 

"  I  do  not  doubt,  because  I  have  never  ques 
tioned  the  matter." 

"She  is  indeed  a  puzzle  with  her  quick 
changes  and  her  constant  coquetries ;  but  in  her 


136  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

heart,  cousin,  I  believes  she  cares  most  for  you. 
Cousin  Janet  thinks  she  has  always  loved  you.  " 

But  with  an  impatient  denial  he  changed  the 
subject,  and  they  went  back  as  they  came, 
singing  and  chatting. 

"I  will  dismount  here,"  she  said  when  they 
reached  the  block  by  the  side  gate,  and 
though  reluctant  to  relinquish  the  touch  of  that 
clinging  arm,  Laurence  drew  rein.  "I  have 
had  a  most  charming  ride,  cousin;  I  hope  you 
have  been  as  happy  as  I." 

He  laughed:  "  Methinks,  :weet  cousin,  that 
the  way  to  the  orchard  this  morning  lay  through 
Paradise."  And  unable  longer  to  resist  the 
temptation,  he  lifted  her  hand  from  his  coat 
and  put  it  softly  to  his  lips ;  and  again  she  felt 
him  tremble  and  saw  the  hot  blood  in  his 
face.  But  she  slipped  silently  from  her  place 
to  the  block. 

"Remember,  sir,  if  Cousin  Janet  finds  out 
about  this  escapade,  I  did  not  wish  to  go;  it 
was  you,  O  Satan,  who  tore  me  from  my  vine- 
wreathed  castle  here,  and  carried  me  off  despite 
my  entreaties  !" 

"I   will  remember!" 

She  went  slowly  up  the  shadow-flecked  path, 
tossing  an  apple  in  the  air  and  catching  it  again 
as  it  fell.  The  ride  was  a  thing  of  the  past, 


A  Thread  of  Gold  137 

the  man  behind  was  forgotten,  and  the  love 
song  on  her  lips  was  for  another  far  over  the  sea. 
In  his  heart  that  waiting  horseman  knew  it ;  and 
he  paid  the  price  of  his  hour  of  happiness  with 
the  jealous  pain  that  bit  into  his  heart. 

That  afternoon  he  found  her  again  in  the 
arbor,  the  pattern  of  decorum  in  her  primly 
starched  kerchief  and  long  cuffs.  She  made 
believe  not  to  see  him  until,  forcibly  taking  the 
book  she  was  reading,  he  thrust  it  behind  the 
rustic  seat,  and  so  left  her  nothing  but  to  look 
at  him. 

' '  I  am  doing  penance  for  my  sin  of  the  morn 
ing,  "  she  said  with  mock  solemnity.  "Cousin 
Janet  knows  of  our  ride,  and  treats  me  as  if  I 
were  some  disciple  of  Rome  under  sentence  of 
excommunication.  I  almost  feel  as  if  I  should 
go  out  and  hang  myself,  so  heinous  has  been 
my  offence. " 

"Well,  let  the  knowledge  of  the  happiness 
you  conferred  on  me  keep  you  from  self- 
destruction, "  he  answered  in  the  same  light 
vein.  "  How  did  mother  learn  of  the  ride  ? " 

' '  It  seems  father  saw  us  from  the  porch  and 
told  her  as  a  joke;  only  she  sees  no  joke  in  'a 
young  woman,  without  a  riding  skirt,  galloping 
over  the  country  hugging  a  young  man  about 
the  waist ! '  " 


138  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"She  said  that!" 

She  nodded  emphatically.  "  Yes,  and  several 
other  things  quite  as  terrible.  Oh,  I  assure 
you  she  made  me  see  my  grievous  conduct  in 
the  right  light.  She  told  me  I  must  never 
again  forget  that  you  are  only  my  second 
cousin." 

"My  mother's  ideas  are  foolishly  severe,  but 
she  did  not  wish  to  wound  you,  I  know.  There 
was  no  earthly  reason  why  you  should  not  go 
with  me." 

"Oh,  she  is  right,  and  I  have  promised  to 
remember  all  she  said;  you  will  never  be 
able  to  tempt  me  again.  I  believe  she  thinks 
I  am  poaching  on  Ann's  preserves.  She  said 
Ann  would  not  like — 

He  caught  her  almost  roughly  by  the  arm: 
"Stop  laughing,  Judith,  and  listen  to  me. 
Ann  Randal  has  no  rights  whatever,  and  wants 
none,  where  I  am  concerned ;  and  God  knows  I 
want  none  over  her. ' ' 

She  stopped  laughing  instantly,  compelled 
by  his  manner. 

"Dear  cousin,"  she  said  gently,  "you  are 
thinking  of  the  girl  you  loved  in  England." 

"Yes,"  he  answered  passionately;  "I  am 
thinking  of  her  always — always  !" 

She  laid  her  white  hand  over  his  in  sympathy. 


A  Thread  of  Gold  139 

"That  is  very  foolish  of  you,  Laurie,  for  she 
did  not  love  you,  so  you  said.  It  is  not  well  to 
waste  your  manhood  in  a  useless  dream." 

He  put  his  other  hand  over  hers  in  a  nervous 
clasp:  "I  had  rather  dream  of  her  than  hold 
any  other  woman  in  my  arms." 

"I  am  sorry,  but  be  it  so,"  she  answered, 
feeling  sure,  however,  that  Ann  must  win  in 
the  end.  Then  she  added  demurely:  "But  'tic 
no  use  to  be  squeezing  my  hand  like  that.  If 
Cousin  Janet  knew,  she  would  be  again  re- 
miri*ding  me  that  we  are  only  second  cousins, 
and  that  what  was  very  well  when  one  was  nine 
is  quite  a  different  matter  when  one  is  nineteen." 

"She  is  over  punctilious  in  her  ideas.  You 
must  not — 

"  Oh,  yes  I  must,  "  she  said,  drawing  her  hand 
away  and  straightening  the  rings  on  her  finger. 
"I  must  remember  always  the  dignity  that 
goes  with  long  gowns  and  combed-up  hair." 

Then  the  assumed  primness  fled,  and  her 
face  dimpled  with  laughter.  In  the  clouded 
months  that  followed  he  liked  to  think  of  her 
as  she  looked  then. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A   NEW   SAIL   OVER   THE   SEA. 

"  The  sails  we  see  on  the  ocean 

Are  white  as  white  can  be, 
But  never  one  in  the  harbor 
As  white  as  the  sails  at  sea  " 

— ANON. 

/TTVHE  next  morning  William  reported  an 
-*-  unusual  excitement  in  Jamestown  be 
cause  of  a  sail  the  early  fishermen  had  sighted 
down  the  far  reaches  of  the  river.  A  sail  meant 
a  vessel,  and  a  vessel  meant  news  from  the 
outside  world;  and  Sir  Thomas  and  Laurence 
mounted  in  hot  haste,  to  learn  the  tidings  this 
one  brought. 

The  whole  settlement  had  gathered  at  the 
wharf;  men,  women  and  children  watching  the 
eastern  flow  of  the  river,  each  eager  to  descry 
the  white  canvas  signal  grow  out  of  the  blue 
sky.  And  as  they  waited  they  jested  of  present 
happenings,  or  talked  in  low  voices  of  old  days 
in  the  mother-country  and  of  friends  still  dwell 
ing  there,  perhaps  in  jeopardy  of  life  and 
property.  Sir  Thomas,  in  a  group  of  those 
140 


A  New  Sail  Over  the  Sea  141 

who  speculated  on  things  political,  talked  of 
Marston  Moor  and  the  fighting  that  fell  there; 
but  Laurence  walked  up  and  down  the  pier, 
lost  in  a  profound  reverie,  striving  to  find  a 
leading  thread  out  of  the  darkness  of  this 
hopeless  love  that  had  caught  him  in  its  thrall. 
Going  over  the  events  of  yesterday,  he  won 
dered  at  the  self-control  that  had  enabled  him 
to  keep  silent  with  her  sweet  body  so  near  to 
his.  The  very  thought  of  the  pressure  of  her 
arm  filled  him  with  warmth  as  though  he  had 
quaffed  some  strong,  sweet  wine;  and  his  step 
was  lighter  and  a  smile  hovered  at  the  corners 
of  his  mouth. 

And  as  he  moved  thus  up  and  down  the  pier, 
more  than  one  pair  of  bright  eyes  followed  him 
admiringly;  for  although  his  gray  eyes  shot 
back  no  answering  glances,  yet  was  he  good  to 
look  at,  for  his  fine  shoulders  had  no  stoop  in 
them,  and  the  high-laced  riding  gaiters  fitted 
perfectly  his  straight,  strong  limbs. 

"He  is  thinking  of  Ann  Randal,"  said  Lissa 
to  another  girl,  who  nodded  in  answer. 

"Stuff!"  said  Tony  Foster;  "he  thinks  no 
more  of  Ann  Randal  than  I  do.  There's  a 
fairer  face  in  the  field ;  and  Laurence  had  ever  a 
good  eye  for  a  woman's  points." 

But  women  are  hard  to  shake  in  their  estab 
lished  beliefs,  and  the  girl  was  unconvinced. 


142  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"Though  to  be  sure  he  would  be  showing 
judgment  to  pass  Ann  by — the  scornful  piece,  " 
said  Lissa. 

"  Oh,  Master  Foster  is  but  at  his  old  trade  of 
hunting  mares'  nests,"  laughed  her  companion. 

"  Mares'  nests,  is  it  ? "  blustered  Tony.  "  Well, 
just  you  wait  and  see  what  hatches  out  of  it. 
Was  it  a  mare's  nest  I  showed  you  about  Dick 
Streater?" 

At  which  the  girl's  face  darkened;  for  Dick 
had  let  his  fancy  stray  to  a  pretty  Irish  face, 
and  it  was  Tony  who  had  given  her  the  warning 
she  needed.  The  reminder  of  this  re-established 
his  credit  with  her,  so  that  she  began  to  ques 
tion  him  about  this  other  secret  romance. 
Was  it  Mary  Lewis  of  whom  Laurence  thought  ? 
No;  nor  Betty  Gardener.  But  Tony  was  not 
saying  the  right  girl's  name;  they  might 
watch  for  themselves. 

^'It  passes  me  how  you  find  out  these  things, 
Master  Foster.  You  must  have  eyes  like  a 
cat— that  see  in  the  dark." 

'Tis  a  wise  man  who  knows  when  to  see 
and  when  not  to  see.  I  have  thought  mayhap 
that  was  the  secret  of  Solomon's  success  with 
so  many  women — he  knew  just  the  right  mo 
ment  to  shut  his  eyes  to  keep  from  learning 
the  deceitfulness  of  his  wives." 


A  Now  Sail  Over  the  Sea  143 

"Women  would  have  to  go  blind  altogether, 
not  to  see  the  deceitfulness  of  men,"  Lissa 
said  bitterly. 

"Nay,"  said  Tony,  smoking  complacently; 
"they  might -open  theirs  while  the  men  slept; 
for  if  they  are  young  and  call  themselves 
'gentlemen'  that  is  the  only  time  they  are  not 
serving  the  devil." 

Tis  a  hard  name  you  are  giving  your  sex, 
Tony,"  said  Laurence,  who  in  his  walk  had 
passed  near  them.  "I  thought  it  was  the 
women  who  fell  under  the  ban  of  your  dis 
approval." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  excepting  the  women.  Men 
do  stop  serving  the  devil  long  enough  to  sleep ; 
but  women  lose  no  such  time — they  go  on 
dreaming  up  some  new  plan  of  contrariness." 

Lissa  clapped  her  hand  over  his  mouth  and 
the  other  girl  threw  a  pebble  at  him,  but  he 
only  laughed. 

Just  then  a  cheer  from  the  end  of  the  wharf 
told  that  the  sail  had  been  sighted,  and  at 
tention  was  at  once  directed  to  the  ship.  It 
was  a  merchantman  fresh  from  English  shores ; 
and  in  it  came  new  colonists — fine  dames  and 
titled  gentlemen  of  the  Cavalier  party,  flying 
from  the  fanatical  destruction  that  ravaged 
the  island  kingdom;  men  and  women  who 


144  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

were  to  drop  their  titles  like  worn-out  garments 
and  become  as  the  people  of  their  adoption, 
but  whose  grace  of  manner,  high  breeding  and 
mental  culture  were  to  enter  so  largely  into 
the  making  and  up-holding  of  Virginia. 

Among  these  Sir  Thomas  found  old  ac 
quaintances,  and  he  wept  and  swore  by  turns 
as  he  heard  the  trials  and  privations  of  con 
fiscation  and  persecution  they  had  endured. 
The  campaign  in  Ireland,  whither  Cromwell 
had  gone  to  quell  the  uprising  in  favor  of  the 
Stuart,  was  the  engrossing  theme  of  these  new 
comers;  and  Sir  Thomas  ran  the  full  gamut 
of  his  profanity  as  he  listened  to  the  recital; 
for  the  cause  of  the  Royalists  was  in  desperate 
straits,  and  everywhere  the  standard  of  the 
Independents  flew  free.  Scotland  was  ready 
to  acknowledge  Charles  II.,  but  only  "on  con 
dition  of  his  good  behaviour  and  strict  ad 
herence  to  the  covenant." 

"Think  of  it,  Sir — ' upon  good  behaviour'! 
That's  a  stipulation  to  make  with  a  prince  of 
the  blood,  a  man  who  has  not  yet  been  tested 
or  found  wanting.  By  the  eternal  fire-fiends, 
it  is  infamous !  What  means  the  king  to 
entertain  such  an  arrogant  proposition  ?" 

'Tis  a  case  of  compulsion.  In  such  ex 
tremities  even  a  king  must  take  what  he  can 
get.  Necessity  is  the  hardest  of  term-makers." 


A  New  Sail  Over  the  Sea  145 

"Then  where  are  his  brave  followers  that 
they  put  up  with  such  necessity?  Where  are 
Robert  and  Thomas  and  all  the  rest  that  they 
enter  not  a  protest  with  their  good  swords?" 

"Perhaps  your  letter  will  tell  you  of  them," 
Laurence  said,  as  he  untied  their  horses. 

Sir  Thomas  was  in  such  a  towering  passion 
that  he  had  forgotten  the  letter  Laurence  had 
some  time  ago  put  in  his  hand.  He  had  not 
thought  even  to  go  to  the  post,  so  absorbed 
had  he  been  in  his  talk  with  the  new-comers. 
But  while  lie  had  gone  from  group  to  group, 
gathering  all  information  possible,  Laurence 
had  waited  for  the  openingof  the  ship's  letter- 
bags,  for  as  he  rode  down  the  avenue  that 
morning  Judith  had  run  at  his  side  a  few  paces 
to  whisper: 

"If  there  be  anything  in  the  post  for  me, 
bring  it,  cousin ;  father  had  as  lief  leave  it 
behind." 

The  words  darkened  all  the  day  for  him, 
reminding  him  as  they  did  of  that  other  lover 
whom  she  favoured.  He  knew  she  was  wait 
ing  at  home,  counting  every  hour  of  his  ab 
sence,  longing  to  see  him  return,  not  for  his 
own  sake,  but  for  sake  of  what  he  might  bring. 
But  there  had  been  nothing  for  her,  and  so 
after  watching  Tony  go  over  the  letters,  he 


146  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

went  down  the  street  with  that  one  for  Sir 
Thomas,  cursing  Arthur  Seton  for  a  laggard 
in  love  as  well  as  in  war;  yet  nothing  loth  to 
go  home  empty  handed. 

Sir  Thomas  had  paused  with  his  foot  in  the 
stirrup  to  take  his  sons  to  task  for  allowing 
such  a  proposition  from  the  Scots  to  Charles. 
At  Laurence's  reminder  he  suddenly  remem 
bered  the  letter  in  his  hand,  and  taking  his 
foot  from  the  stirrup  he  broke  the  wafer  and 
read  it.  Laurence  watching,  saw  his  face  grow 
ashen,  and  the  sheet  shake  in  his  hand. 

"Laurie,  Laurie  !  they  were  in  Ireland — all 
of  them ;  in  the  fight  they  told  us  of  at  the  inn 
yonder;  and — -and — Thomas  is  wounded — and 
Arthur  Seton  is  slain !  Hear  what  Robert 
writes !"  And  leaning  against  his  horse  to 
steady  himself,  he  read  the  long  letter  aloud; 
but  Laurence  heard  only  one  paragraph. 

"I  have  but  ill  tidings,  father,  ill  to  write  and 
ill  to  hear.  It  was  at  Drogheda.  There  were 
some  three  thousand  Englishmen  under  Aston, 
holding  the  place  as  its  garrison.  Against 
these  came  Cromwell  with  his  Ironsides — and 
the  fight  was  terrible.  At  first  we  drove  them 
back  in  confusion,  and  thought  the  victory  was 
ours.  But  they  rallied  and  came  again,  in 
furiated  by  their  first  repulse,  made  blood- 
hungry  by  that  barbarous  order  of  their  leader 


A  New  Sail  Over  the  Sea  147 

to  spare  no  one.  Our  thin  line  was  broken 
and  a  retreat  started;  but  the  retreat  became 
a  rout  with  that  catchword  every  soldier 
dreads:  sauve  qui  pent.  Some  strove  to  hide 
in  the  town,  but  were  hunted  out  like  rats; 
others  fled  to  the  church  for  sanctuary,  but 
God's  house  was  not  exempt  from  the  Round 
heads'  torch,  and  many  of  those  who  had  sought 
safety  found  instead  a  shroud  of  flame.  A 
few  of  us,  holding  together,  cut  our  way  through 
the  pickets  and  made  for  the  open  country, 
hoping  to  reach  the  hills.  Galloping  thus,  we 
passed  a  thick  hedge  from  behind  which  a 
detachment  of  the  enemy  opened  fire  on  us  all 
unexpectedly.  Robert  was  struck  in  the  side, 
but  managed  to  cling  to  his  saddle  until  we 
were  out  of  gunshot,  when  I  \vas  able  to  give 
him  such  aid  as  was  necessary  to  put  him  in 
charge  of  a  surgeon.  He  lies  now,  secretly, 
at  a  friendly  farmhouse,  but  is  like  to  be  long 
in  mending — even  to  fight  no  more,  though  it 
breaks  my  heart  to  say  it  to  you. 

"  Him  we  rescued  from  the  enemy,  but  young 
Seton,  wrho  had  been  a  month  with  us,  and 
who  fought  by  my  brother's  side,  is  among 
the  missing.  I  saw  him  fall,  struck  down  by 
the  same  volley  that  did  for  Thomas.  I  hoped 
he  was  but  wounded,  and  so  might  escape  back 
to  us  or  be  picked  up  by  those  who  escaped 
after  us.  But  to-day  his  name  is  in  the  list 
of  the  slain;  and  I  am  killing  Judy  with  the 
news." 


148  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

It  was  these  last  sentences  that  burnt  their 
way  into  Laurence's  brain  as  with  a  searing 
iron,  leaving  him  speechless  with  a  conflict  of 
emotions. 

Judith  !  The  barrier  that  had  stood  between 
them  was  gone,  swept  away  as  lightly,  as 
ruthlessly  as  though  it  had  been  but  a  bubble 
of  brittle  glass,  a  castle  of  fantastic  cards. 
He  was  free  to  love  her,  to  woo  her;  she  was 
free  to  listen.  The  surging  ecstasy  of  the 
realization  swept  through  him,  weaving  a  web 
of  flame  in  his  brain.  The  sky  had  a  new 
face,  the  landscape  a  new  smile,  the  heart  of 
nature  a  new  song. 

But  Sir  Thomas  thought  only  of  his  son, 
the  boy  who  bore  his  name  and  should  one 
day  have  taken  his  place  at  Cotslea  and  perpetu 
ated  the  family  name  and  honor.  "It  is  the 
fortune  of  war,"  the  old  soldier  said  grimly, 
as  he  folded  the  letter.  But  never  before  had 
he  mounted  his  horse  so  heavily  or  ridden  so 
dispiritedly. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either  until  the 
two  miles  of  river  road  had  been  traversed  and 
they  were  entering  the  gate  under  the  maples 
at  Rivermead;  then  suddenly  each  drew  his 
rein,  for  at  the  far  turn  of  the  avenue  a  girlish 
figure  stood  waiting.  A  late  sunbeam,  slanting 


A  New  Sail  Over  the  Sea  149 

through  a  rift  in  the  trees,  had  caught  her  in 
a  mesh  of  golden  rays,  making  a  picture  as 
from  some  fine  illuminated  volume  of  the  past. 
The  two  riders,  standing  stock  still,  looked  at 
each  other,  a  helpless  pain  in  either  face. 

"Arthur  Seton — who  is  to  tell  her?"  cried 
Sir  Thomas,  with  a  sudden  rush  of  pity  and 
a  man's  dread  of  hurting  a  woman. 

"Not  I,"  said  Laurence.  "I  could  not!" 
And  turning  hastily  into  a  footpath  through 
the  trees,  he  left  Sir  Thomas  to  go  on  alone  to 
the  woman  waiting  with  eager  eyes  and  smiling 
lips  for  the  blow  that  was  to  fall  like  night 
upon  her  heart. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN    THE    SHADOW. 

"  Joy's  recollection  is  no  longer  joy, 
But  sorrow's  memory  is  sorrow  still !" 

— BYRON. 

/^\CTOBER'S  golden  torches,  which  had 
^^  begun  their  flaming  with  such  pomp, 
burned  slowly  out  without  any  one  to  watch 
with  regretful  eyes  their  going,  for  over 
Rivermead  there  brooded  a  palsying  sorrow. 
The  shock  which  Sir  Thomas  had  always 
dreaded  for  Judith  had  fallen,  and  had  proved 
the  validity  of  his  fears;  for  she  had  dropped 
into  a  tearless  melancholy  from  which  nothing 
roused  her  to  any  protracted  interest.  All  day 
her  father  or  Laurence  sat  by  her,  talking  or 
silent  as  her  mood  dictated;  going  over  again 
and  again  all  the  reasons  for  Arthur's  return 
to  England,  how  it  was  inevitable  he  must  do 
so,  and  how  she  had  been  right  to  set  his  duty 
before  him.  Her  father  talked  to  her  of  her 
brothers,  of  her  life  at  Cotslea,  of  the  old 
settle  with  its  imaginary  tenants  of  goblin  and 
150 


hero;  and  Laurence  brought  her  the  news  of 
the  plantation,  how  the  tobacco  was  weighing, 
how  much  corn  there  was  to  ship  to  England, 
and  how  her  horse  was  wearying  in  its  stall. 
One  morning  Lissa  came,  and  although  Mis 
tress  Falkner  was  doubtful,  Laurence  said 
she  should  go  upstairs ;  and  she  slipped  in  with 
a  bunch  of  wild  asters  and  red  sumac  leaves, 
and  sat  on  a  stool  and  cried  to  see  how  white 
was  the  face  that  always  had  a  smile  for  her. 

"But  'tis  better  to  bury  a  lover  than  to  lose 
his  heart,"  she  whispered.  For  Larry  had  not 
died  of  that  knife  wound,  but  had  recovered 
and  gone  away  to  Henrico  and  never  returned ; 
but  Judith,  though  she  knew,  yet  took  no  com 
fort.  "Sometimes  I  wish  Tony's  knife  had 
gone  a  little  deeper,"  Lissa  went  on,  "  then  I 
would  know  where  he  was,  and  not  be  always 
asking  myself  useless  questions  about  him." 

"Some  day  he  may  come  back." 

"I  do  not  want  him  to  come  back,"  the  girl 
said,  with  a  quick  flash  of  her  eyes;  "but  I 
want  to  know  that  he  is  miserable — miser 
able  ! " 

Judith  turned  her  head,  not  comprehending 
a  sentiment  like  that. 

"Captain  Seton  loved  you,"  Lissa  said 
presently.  "I  know;  for  when  the  gay  young 


152  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

gentlemen  would  get  toasting  their  ladies 
around  the  table,  he  would  never  speak  your 
name,  but  he  would  take  off  his  hat  and  say: 
To  the  Cavalier  maid ' ;  and  everybody  knew 
whom  he  meant." 

Judith  put  her  hand  on  the  girl's  head:  "I 
am  glad  you  came,  Lissa.  I  will  remember 
that." 

A  week  after  Robert's  letter  had  cast  its 
blackness  into  the  glowing  heart  of  the  autumn, 
Ann  Randal  came.  Laurence  had  sent  for  her, 
hoping  she  would  find  something  to  say  to 
Judith  that  would  carry  with  it  a  ray  of  com 
fort. 

"She  needs  a  woman's  sympathy — a  woman 
nearer  her  age  than  my  mother,"  he  said,  and 
sent  her  upstairs. 

But  when  she  stood  beside  the  couch  where 
Judith  lay,  there  was  no  sympathy  in  her 
black  eyes.  For  a  minute  no  word  was  spoken ; 
then  Ann  said,  and  there  was  a  harshness  in 
her  voice  that  made  Judith  shudder : 

"And  so  he  is  dead." 

"Yes,"  answered  Judith,  a  tearless  sob  in 
her  throat,  "dead,  and  I  am  left  alone." 

The  black  eyes  watching  her  did  not  lose 
their  hard  glitter:  "And  you  realize  at  last 


In  the  Shadow  153 

that  it  would  have  been  better  not  to  have  so 
urged  his  return  to  England  ?" 

"Ann,  Ann,  do  not  look  at  me  like  that ! 
Do  not  say  such  cruel  things ;  I  never  thought 
this  could  happen." 

"Never  thought  a  man  could  be  killed  in 
war?" 

"I  know  men  are  killed — but  Arthur — oh, 
it  did  not  seem  possible  !" 

"No  man  bears  a  charmed  life  in  battle." 

"My  brother  escaped,  so  did  Newton;  others 
were  not  wounded ;  why  should  he  have  fallen  ?" 
Then  suddenly  she  lifted  herself  on  her  elbow: 
"Ann,  you— you  do  not  think  I  am  to  blame, 
that  I  am  responsible  for —  She  could 

not  finish  her  sentence. 

That  strange  light  leaped  again  to  Ann's 
eyes,  and  her  hands  clenched  themselves 
tightly ;  but  with  a  masterful  effort  she  lowered 
her  lids  and  answered  slowly:  "I  do  not, 
of  course,  think  you  deliberately  sent  him  to 
meet  this  awful  fate,  but — I  know  that  had  it 
not  been  for  your  urging —  '  here  her  voice 
lost  its  tense  note  and  rose  shrilly,  " — if  it  had 
not  been  for  your  constant  upbraiding,  he 
would  be  here  now,  alive  and  warm  and  real — 
not  over  yonder  in  an  unmarked  grave, 
dead— dead  and  lost  forever  !  " 


154  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

She  sank  down  beside  the  couch,  hiding  her 
face  against  the  carpet,  shaking  with  a  sudden 
storm  of  uncontrollable  sobs.  For  one  awful 
moment  Judith  watched  her  with  dilated  eyes , 
then  with  trembling  fingers  she  tore  open 
the  throat  of  her  own  gown  as  though  it  hurt 
her. 

"Yes,  yes,  you  are  right;  they  have  tried 
to  persuade  me  I  am  not  to  blame,  but  I  sent 
him  to  his  death — I  know  it,  I  know  it !  " 

"I  warned  you  and  you  would  not  listen," 
went  on  Ann's  uncompromising  voice;  "I 
told  you  how  it  would  be,  and  you  would  not 
believe  me — you  were  so  set  to  have  your 
way." 

Judith  fell  back  against  her  pillow  with  a 
suppressed  cry:  "Ann,  Ann,  you  kill  me  with 
such  words ! " 

"He  did  not  wish  to  go;  he  was  content  to 
stay  here,  to  let  others  fight  and  die,  but  you 
would  not  let  him." 

"Yes,"  Judith  said  at  last,  and  in  her  voice 
was  the  hopelessness  of  despair.  "Yes,  you 
warned  me,  and  I  would  not  listen;  and  now 
I  am  left  alone  and  desolate." 

She  lay  very  still  for  a  long  time  as  if  looking 
far  back  into  the  heart  of  the  buried  spring 
time  when  she  and  Arthur  had  gone  over  these 


In  the  Shadow  155 

things  so  often.  She  saw  how  she  had  gradu 
ally  won  him  to  her  way  of  thinking,  saw  all 
the  influence  she  had  brought  to  bear.  But 
after  a  while,  when  she  was  calmer,  and  that 
hysterical  sobbing  still  went  on  down  on  the 
carpet  beside  her,  she  leaned  over  and  asked 
curiously : 

"Why  should  you  cry  so,  Ann?  You  are 
not  to  blame,  for  you  urged  him  to  remain; 
and  he  was  not  your  lover." 

With  a  violent  effort  the  girl  on  the  floor 
caught  the  sob  in  her  throat  and  strangled  it : 

"A  woman  may  surely  weep  for  her  own 
kindred." 

"Yes,  but  you  weep  so  violently;  and  yet 
you  knew  him  so  short  a  while." 

"He  lived  in  my  house  for  two  months,  sat 
at  the  same  table  with  me,  rode  with  me,  sang 
the  same  songs  I  sang,  read  the  same  books — 
it  does  not  require  a  lifetime  to  conceive  a 
liking  for  one  so  near  in  blood  and  association." 

But  she  stopped  crying,  shutting  her  teeth 
hard  to  keep  back  the  convulsive  tremor  and 
deep  breathing  that  betrayed  her  emotion. 
After  a  while  she  got  up  and  sat  in  a  chair 
facing  the  sofa,  but  a  little  removed  from  it, 
as  if  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  come  in  con 
tact  with  the  white-faced,  miserable  girl  be- 


156  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

fore  her.  She  tried  to  talk  of  other  things,  of 
the  wonderful  weather,  of  the  crimson  maple 
leaves  tapping  at  the  window,  of  the  birds  she 
missed  in  her  rides — those  delicate,  migratory 
creatures  who  had  flown  at  the  first  whisper  of 
the  frost  king.  Her  voice  gradually  won  back 
its  even  coldness;  but  her  eyes,  the  few  times 
she  lifted  them,  held  still  that  accusing  light 
that  stung  Judith  with  anguish. 

"There  is  but  one  shred  of  comfort  in  it," 
the  latter  said,  her  dry  eyes  on  the  blue  of 
the  window  pane. 

"What  possible  comfort  can  you  find?" 

"This:  that  he  loved  me  well  enough  to  do 
my  bidding,  even  against  his  inclination — 'tis 
much  to  know  that  I  had  his  whole  heart." 

Under  Ann's  drooping  lids  the  fierce  light 
flashed  and  kindled;  she  wanted  to  denounce 
the  cruelty  that  wrould  let  love  so  sacrifice  it 
self;  but  she  clenched  her  hands  again,  and 
then  sat  looking  fixedly  at  the  blue  marks  in 
her  palms. 

"I  can  do  nothing  for  her,"  she  said  coldly 
to  Laurence,  as  he  put  her  in  her  saddle  at  the 
door.  "It  is  both  wrong  and  selfish  of  her  to 
give  up  this  way,  as  if — as  if  she  had  a  right 
to  all  the  grief  there  is  for  my  cousin." 


In  the  Shadow  157 

"She  is  of  a  nervous  nature  and  the  shock 
has  overwhelmed  her,"  he  answered,  surprised 
at  her  words.  "You  find  her  greatly 
changed?" 

"Yes;  because  she  makes  no  effort  against 
her  moody  thoughts — that  is  why  I  say  she  is 
wrong." 

"She  is  not  to  blame  for  her  sensitive  nerves, 
her  physical  weakness." 

"Perhaps  not,  and  perchance  her  grief  is 
but  natural,  since  it  was  she  who  sent  him 
back  to  England.  Well,  she  will  recover,  but 
I  am  not  the  person  to  help  her." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  after  a  shock  like  this  it  takes 
a  man,  not  another  woman,  to  comfort  a  girl." 

"I  do  not  understand." 

She  flicked  a  bit  of  dust  from  her  habit  and 
drew  on  her  glove.  "Well,  then,  to  be  plain, 
it  takes  another  lover." 

"Mover?" 

"Yes,  a  lover;  her  heart  will  be  healed  in 
time;  perchance  by  Amos — perchance  by 
you." 

She  shot  him  a  comprehensive  glance  from 
her  black  eyes,  struck  her  horse  and  went 
down  the  avenue  at  a  mad  pace,  never  once 
looking  back.  Laurence  mounted  the  steps 


158  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

slowly.  So  she  had  divined  his  secret  ?  It  did 
not  matter  now;  all  the  world  might  know  it. 
But  Amos !  He  had  never  thought  of  Amos 
as  r.  possible  rival. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE   AWAKENING. 

"There's  a  new  face  at  my  door  to-day, 
A  new  call  at  my  heart." 

—ANON. 

"  TT  TILL  you  not  ride  with  me  this  morning, 
Judith?  We  shall  not  have  many 
more  as  fine  days  as  this." 

"You  are  very  kind,  cousin,  but  I  do  not  care 
to  go." 

"It  would  do  you  good — and  please  me 
much." 

"Where  are  you  going?"  she  asked,  after 
a  moment's  hesitation. 

"To  the  fodder  stacks  in  the  meadow;  after 
wards  to  the  settlement." 

She  shook  her  head.  "To  the  settlement? 
No.  You  will  bring  me  bad  news  again  as 
you  did  a  month  ago.  Nothing  but  sorrow 
comes  on  the  ships  that  anchor  at  the  settle 
ment." 

And  true  enough,  he  did  bring  her  evil  tid 
ings,  of  Thomas,  who  had  died  of  his  wounds 
159 


160  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

in  the  Irish  farmhouse.  Robert  had  gone 
back  to  Scotland  to  await  the  landing  of 
Charles,  which  was  still  delayed  through  lack 
of  a  requisite  force.  When  lie  should  come 
there  would  be  an  end  of  petty  strife  such  as 
was  being  maintained  by  the  scattered  bands, 
and  in  its  place  would  be  hard  fighting  such  as 
soldiers  love;  and  perhaps  a  speedy  return  for 
the  exiles  scattered  over  the  far  side  of  the  sea. 

"God  speed  the  time  !  "  said  Sir  Thomas,  and 
told  it  all  to  Judith,  hoping  to  awaken  her 
martial  enthusiasm.  But  beyond  an  anxiety 
for  her  brother's  safety,  she  took  no  interest ; 
she  had  lost  faith  in  the  triumph  of  the  Stuart. 

"I  wish  she  had  the  spirit  to  break  every 
platter  in  the  pantry,"  Mistress  Falkner  said, 
turning  her  eyes  from  the  quiet  figure  at  the 
window,  with  its  face  ever  towards  the  pale 
winter  sunshine  or  the  swirling  white  storm 
without.  And  so  it  was  with  them  all — they 
longed  ceaselessly  for  the  first  sign  of  returning 
mental  vigour. 

"I  tell  you,"  cried  Sir  Thomas,  an  oath  on 
his  lips  and  tears  in  his  eyes,  "I  tell  you  the 
young  beggar  had  no  right  to  get  himself  killed 
since  she  had  set  her  heart  on  him.  'Twas 
like  his  cursed  selfishness." 

He  got  no  answer  from  the  man  across  the 


The  Awakening  161 

hearth,  blowing  great  clouds  of  smoke  from 
his  fragrant  pipe ;  and  after  a  moment  he  broke 
out  fretfully: 

"But  for  my  part,  I'm  glad  the  Roundheads 
killed  him;  'tis  the  only  good  day's  work 
they've  done.  I  could  never  have  borne  to 
see  him  marry  my  little  Judy.  Why  needs 
she  have  fallen  in  love  with  an  idle,  curled  and 
powdered  macaroni  like  that  ?  Why  not  have 
chosen  a  lover  with  more  of  the  man  in  him?" 

"Would  you  have  given  her  to  me,  sir?" 
the  voice  out  of  the  smoke  asked. 

"An'  you  had  wanted  her,  that  would  I." 

"Wanted  her !  You  know  that  I  love  her — 
that  I  would  give  my  life  for  her." 

Sir  Thomas  held  out  his  hand  in  silence. 
He  had  long  known  that  only  Arthur  Seton 
stood  in  the  way  of  his  plan.  And  now  Seton 
was  gone,  and  Judith  must  one  day  recover 
from  this  brooding  grief — only  her  bodily 
weakness  had  made  her  so  succumb — there 
yet  was  a  possibility  of  fruition  for  his  hopes. 
After  that  day  it  was  a  great  relief  to  the  two 
men  to  talk  openly  of  their  fears — and  of  a 
new  hope  that  came  by  and  by  as  the  winter 
wore  away. 

Ann  did  not  come  often  to  Rivermead, 
though  after  that  first  morning  she  had  had  no 


1 62  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

upbraiding  for  Judith;  rather  was  she  gentle 
and  solicitous;  but  between  them  was  a  con 
straint  that  came  of  the  memory  of  that  other 
scene.  Ann  had  regained  her  spirits,  and  was 
full  of  her  old  coquetries  with  the  gallants  who 
rode  at  her  bridle  or  beside  her  coach.  At 
Rivermead  she  jested  with  Laurence,  and 
when  he  was  not  at  home  she  turned  the 
laughing  fire  of  her  black  eyes  on  Sir  Thomas, 
protesting  she  found  him  more  accomplished 
in  the  ways  of  compliment  and  courtesy  than 
any  of  the  younger  men.  And  the  old  man 
laughed  and  pinched  her  cheek,  and  declared 
she  was  merry  enough  to  tempt  a  stoic  to  smile, 
and  pretty  enough  to  make  old  age  a  double 
burden;  and  wondered  that  Judith  did  not 
yield  more  readily  to  the  gay  influence,  not 
seeing,  as  his  daughter  did,  a  shadow  of  re 
proach  lie  now  and  then  in  the  black  eyes. 

He  was  unspeakably  happy  in  the  action  of 
the  session  of  Burgesses  in  denouncing  the 
beheading  of  Charles  as  "murder  deserving 
death,"  and  in  their  proclaiming  the  homeless 
boy  waiting  on  the  Continent  for  the  turn  of 
the  political  tide,  as  "king  of  England  and 
Virginia."  And  he  journeyed  all  the  way  to 
Greenspring  to  drink  a  toast  with  the  pas 
sionate  old  Loyalist  there,  and  brought  back 


The  Awakening  163 

to  Judith  a  glowing  account  of  the  loyalty  of 
Virginia;  never  seeing  that,  although  Cavalier 
on  the  surface,  Virginia  was  even  then  republi 
can  at  heart.  Judith  listened,  glad  of  what 
pleased  him  but  caring  nothing  on  her  own 
account.  And  seeing  this  he  desisted. 

But  the  Carys'  cup  was  not  yet  full.  A 
later  post  brought  sad  tidings  of  Cotslea.  A 
band  of  Loyalists,  hotly  pursued,  took  refuge 
in  the  mansion  on  the  cliff;  and  their  pursuers, 
being  unable  to  dislodge  them,  set  fire  to  the 
fine  old  pile,  and  all  that  was  inflammable 
went  up  in  flame  and  smoke.  There  perished 
the  heirlooms,  the  cherished  penates  of  genera 
tions  of  Carys,  swept  away  in  one  mad  hour  of 
rapine.  The  news  broke  the  spell  upon  Judith, 
and  she  wept  for  her  home  as  she  had  not 
wept  for  her  lover.  Never  to  see  Cotslea 
again;  never  to  go  through  its  familiar  rooms; 
never  to  sit  on  the  old  settle  in  the  firelit 
gloaming;  never  to  lie  again  in  her  high  cham 
ber  with  the  far  boom  of  the  surf  in  her  ears  ! 
It  seemed  as  if  time  itself  had  come  to  an  end. 

After  that  there  was  no  more  talk  of  re 
turning  to  England.  Even  if,  through  some 
miracle,  the  political  animosity  against  him 
should  die  out,  Sir  Thomas  was  too  old  to 
adjust  himself  to  the  new  government  in 


164  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

England;  he  was  best  off  here  in  America, 
where  he  took  but  a  nominal  interest  in 
public  affairs  and  was  unharassed  by  opposing 
factions.  At  threescore  and  ten  there  was  not 
much  power  of  physical  contention  left  in 
him.  His  chief  thought  and  happiness  now 
centered  in  Judith. 

To  Laurence  those  winter  days  seemed  in 
terminable  ;  he  was  angry  with  Judith  because 
of  this  new  barrier  she  set  up  between  them 
with  her  grief;  for  it  closed  his  lips  in  his  own 
suit.  There  were  long  mornings  when  he  rode 
aimlessly  about  the  plantation  in  the  rain  or 
the  slanting  sleet  rather  than  go  into  the  house 
and  see  her  sitting  silent  and  listless  by  the 
window.  He  waited  only  on  that  harassing 
grief,  for  Ann  Randal  had  said  it  would  take 
another  lover  to  heal  her  heart. 

Tony  Foster  divined  his  trouble,  but  after 
his  usual  manner  spoke  his  sympathy  in  a 
gibe. 

"So  your  little  Gary  cousin  is  grieving  her 
self  sick  for  the  chap  who  went  away  in  the 
Good  Hope  and  got  killed  at  Drogheda.  Well, 
and  she  had  seen  him  some  nights  at  Sutley's 
she'd  know  her  loss  was  not  so  heavy  after  all, 
for  he  knew  a  deal  more  about  spades  and 
clubs  than  about  hearts.  He  was  that  cursed 


The  Awakening  165 

mistake  of  nature  called  a  woman's  man. 
Lissa  liked  him ;  but  I  think  it's  a  blamed  sight 
better  to  play  a  square  game  than  turn  a  fine 
compliment.  The  little  Gary  is  wasting  her 
tears;  but  then,  women  are  like  badly  bred 
dogs — they  howl  for  every  blow,  be  it  heavy  or 
light." 

;  Tis  not  a  light  blow  that  breaks  a  woman's 
heart." 

Tony  blew  a  ring  of  smoke  from  between  his 
scornfully  curling  lips:  "Bah!  Her  heart 
is  the  easiest  part  about  her  to  break — or  to 
mend,  as  you  will  find.  I  have  often  wondered 
why  Providence  should  have  been  so  sparing 
of  metal  when  making  a  woman's  heart; 
enough  went  into  her  tongue  to  give  it  a  keen 
edge ;  but  her  heart ! — no  steel  or  flint  or  sand ; 
just  a  little  soft,  pudgy  mud-pie  that  any  man 
can  dent  with  his  finger  !" 

"I  have  not  found  it  so,"  laughed  Laurence. 

"That's  because  you  have  been  thinking 
more  of  tobacco  worms  than  of  women — until 
this  past  year.  You  could  have  dented  any 
heart  you  minded  here  in  Jamestown." 

"Tobacco  worms  were  profitable  company," 
said  Laurence,  glancing  at  his  account  books. 

"Oh,  I'm  not  saying  your  choice  was  not 
a  wise  one,"  Tony  answered,  dipping  his  pen 


1 66  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

in  the  ink-horn  as  a  sign  that  he  must  go  to 
work.  "Worms  are  easier  to  manage  than 
women." 

"Yet  worms  sometimes  turn,  you  know." 

"Yes,  sometimes;  but  a  woman  is  always 
turning — turning  her  tongue  for  a  stab,  or  her 
silly,  soft  heart  for  another  dent !" 

"Tony,  you  old  giber!"  Laurence  said,  lay 
ing  his  hand  over  the  brown  one  on  the  pen, 
"you  sneer  at  women,  but  in  your  soul  you 
know  there  is  one  of  them  you  would  give  the 
world  to  please." 

"Confound  you!"  snarled  Tony,  "why  need 
you  shake  the  desk  like  that?  You  made  me 
blot  my  ledger.  Why  should  I  be  after  pleas 
ing  any  of  them?  They'd  none  of  them  look 
at  me — save  to  do  their  fetching  and  carrying," 
he  added  under  his  breath,  with  a  sudden  sharp 
memory-thrust.  But  Laurence  was  gone. 

It  was  he  at  last  who  roused  Judith  from 
her  brooding.  The  old  year  was  gone,  and  a 
new  January  had  come  out  of  the  north  in 
swaddling  clothes  of  snow.  All  day  the  white 
flakes  had  come  down  silently,  relentlessly, 
turning  the  gateposts  into  marble  towers 
and  the  box  bushes  into  mosques,  with  here 
and  there  a  minaret  or  muezzin  tower  carved 
deftly  from  the  gleaming  whiteness.  Evening 


The  Awakening  167 

was  closing  in  without  one  glint  of  sun  warmth 
in  the  west.  Judith  stood  by  the  window  and 
Laurence  was  behind  her,  looking  out  at  the 
birds  seeking  their  night's  lodging  at  the  top 
of  the  veranda  columns  or  in  the  cedars  on  the 
lawn.  Sir  Thomas  was  taking  the  air  up  and 
down  the  long  veranda  just  in  front  of  them. 
Noticing  his  slow  movements,  Laurence  said: 

"We  must  be  doing  something  for  Sir  Thomas ; 
he  looks  more  broken  every  day." 

She  lifted  her  head  with  a  sudden  anxiety. 
"You  really  think  so?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  purposing  to  alarm 
her.  "Your  brother's  death  and  your  own 
grieving  have  done  much  to  break  his  spirit." 

"I  had  not  noticed.  What  can  we  do  for 
him?" 

"Make  the  house  more  cheerful  that  he  may 
think  less  of  his  loss.  It  is  hard  for  old  age 
to  become  reconciled  to  such  violent  changes 
as  have  fallen  to  him  of  late — harder  for  him 
than  for  you." 

"I  am  afraid  I  have  been  very  selfish." 

He  laid  his  hand  on  her  hair,  a  tenderness 
he  seldom  permitted  himself:  "Judith,  an 
over-indulgence  in  grief  is  one  of  the  most 
selfish  things  in  the  world." 

She  drew  his  hand  slowly  down  to  her  cheek: 


1 68  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"Dear  Laurie — you  always  show  me  the  right 
path."  Then  she  went  out  and  joined  her 
father. 

From  that  day  she  ceased  to  droop.  Her 
former  buoyancy  of  thought  and  movement 
did  not  come  back  all  at  once;  but  she  took 
her  place  in  the  life  about  her.  The  spinet 
was  opened;  she  challenged  her  father  to  chess 
or  backgammon  during  the  long  winter  even 
ings;  began  a  new  piece  of  patchwork  with 
Mistress  Falkner,  and  rode  with  Laurence  on 
his  rounds,  once  or  twice  going  as  far  as  the 
Randals'  and  bringing  Ann  home  with  her  to 
make  Sir  Thomas  laugh.  The  whole  house 
hold,  responding  to  her  effort,  took  on  a  new 
cheerfulness,  as  though  a  light  had  been  sud 
denly  set  in  the  midst  of  their  gloom.  Sir 
Thomas  told  his  army  jokes  and  anecdotes  and 
sang  again  the  Scotch  ballads  he  loved;  and 
Laurence,  no  longer  afraid  of  wounding  her, 
took  to  quizzing  Judith  as  of  old ;  and  every 
day  a  little  more  of  colour  came  into  her  face. 
But  she  did  not  forget  her  lost  lover.  Sit 
ting  one  windy  day  in  the  boat-house  where, 
during  her  walk,  she  had  sought  shelter  from 
the  keen  March  blast  rattling  in  the  bare 
branches,  she  saw  a  gull  beating  its  way  slowly 
along  the  surface  of  the  water,  as  if  hurt  or 


The  Awakening  169 

spent  with  much  flying.  Deluded  by  some 
siren  of  the  river,  or  else  driven  inland  by  the 
fury  of  the  wind,  gulls  were  not  unusual  sights 
along  the  river  course ;  but  this  one  carried  her 
thoughts  backward.  She  saw,  not  it,  but  that 
other  storm-beaten  petrel  with  the  saffron 
sunset  behind  it  which  she  and  Arthur  had 
watched  from  the  ship's  deck  a  year  ago. 
How  like  that  petrel's  fate  had  been  her  own; 
for  had  not  her  heart  been  blown  away  from 
its  safe  moorings  and  wrecked  and  broken 
when  the  haven  had  seemed  not  far  away? 
She  remembered  the  tremor  that  had  shaken 
her  then  and  the  swift  premonition  of  evil.  It 
had  overtaken  her;  the  sorrow  had  smitten 
her  sore.  Arthur's  life  had  gone  out  utterly, 
like  that  stricken  bird's;  while  her  own,  robbed 
of  its  highest  joy,  must  falter  along  on  broken 
wings  even  as  this  other  gull,  fluttering  now 
close  to  the  shore  among  the  tangle  of  last 
year's  lilies,  was  caught  and  held  by  some  de 
taining  leaf-stalk.  There  it  must  perish — poor 
heart,  poor  bird;  for  neither  was  there  any 
succour. 

But  even  as  she  sighed  there  was  a  rustling 
among  the  river  reeds,  an  arm  was  out 
stretched  and  a  strong  hand  brought  the 
struggling  gull  safe  to  shore. 


170  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Laurence  must  have  known  she  was  in  the 
boat-house,  for  he  brought  the  wounded  bird 
straight  to  her,  placing  it  upon  her  lap.  "I 
have  brought  you  here  a  pensioner  upon  your 
pity,"  he  said.  "I  was  inclined  to  put  it  out 
of  its  misery,  but  its  wing  will  heal  with 
nursing." 

She  smoothed  the  ruffled  feathers  and  stroked 
the  head  softly  with  her  warm  hand,  a  curious 
feeling  of  self-pity  thralling  her  as  if  it  were  her 
own  heart  she  held  thus  between  her  palms. 

"I  have  been  watching  it,"  she  said,  her  eyes 
filling  with  slow  tears,  "and  I  likened  it  to 
myself,  sorrow-hurt  as  I  am.  But  the  com 
parison  was  a  poor  one,  for  a  saving  hand 
was  stretched  out  to  it,  but  none  may  reach 
me." 

"And  why  not?"  he  asked,  letting  his  ringers 
follow  hers  along  the  gull's  gray  back.  "Can 
not  the  same  hand  which  plucked  the  bird 
from  destruction  save  you  also?" 

"Nay,  'tis  not  from  the  water  that  I  must 
be  rescued." 

"From  what  then  ?" 

"From  myself.     And  how  can  one  do  that  ?" 

"By  love  alone,"  he  answered  boldly,  taking 
her  hand  in  his.  "By  a  strong  human  love 


The  Awakening  171 

that  shall  give  you  new  hopes  and  interests. 
Look  at  me,  Judith." 

She  raised  her  startled  eyes  to  his,  and  her 
thoughts  flew  back  to  that  day  she  had  ridden 
behind  him  under  the  fruited  orchard  trees; 
in  his  voice  was  the  same  tone  that  had  stirred 
her  then ,  in  his  eyes  was  the  same  daring  mes 
sage,  in  his  fingers  the  same  nervous  thrill. 
This  was  what  he  had  meant  that  day,  only 
she  had  been  too  blind  or  too  loyal  to  see  it. 
She  drew  her  hand  sharply  away. 

"I  have  done  with  love,"  she  said. 

"Nay,  I  will  not  believe  it.  You  must  live, 
and  while  one  lives  one  must  have  love." 

In  silence  he  let  her  go  up  the  avenue;  but 
he  had  set  his  hand  to  the  bowstring;  he 
would  not  draw  back  until  every  arrow  in 
love's  quiver  had  been  sped. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A    HAPPY    DAY    AT    RIVERMEAD. 

"  Upon  a  tone, 
A  touch  of  hers,  his  blood  would  ebb  and  flow." 

— BYRON. 

A  NEW  element  had  entered  Judith's 
•*•  ^  life,  for  after  that  morning  in  the 
boat-house  Laurence  threw  aside  his  air 
of  cousinly  care  and  openly  assumed  the 
role  of  lover;  and  the  character  suited  him 
well — so  well  that  his  mother  and  Sir  Thomas 
watched  him  with  a  new  admiration,  and 
Ann  Randal  rallied  him  on  his  improved 
manners. 

"Not  even  Sir  Thomas  or  His  Excellency 
turns  a  compliment  more  neatly;  and  your 
bow  is  like  that  of  Pierre,  the  dancing  master." 

"Which  goes  to  prove  the  old  saying  that 
one  is  never  too  old  to  learn." 

"Not  when  Cupid  is  the  teacher,"  she 
laughed,  with  a  sly  look  at  Judith. 

She  must  have  told  Amos  how  things  were 
going  at  Rivermead,  for  when  she  came  again 
172 


A  Happy  Day  at  River  mead  173 

he  was  with  her,  in  his  best  coat  and  gaiters, 
and  with  a  posy  from  his  mother's  window 
garden.  And  then  others  began  to  come. 
The  beaux  who  rode  with  Ann  no  longer  waited 
on  the  porch  with  Laurence  while  she  went  up 
stairs,  but  came  boldly  into  the  parlor  and 
made  their  bows  and  asked  after  Judith's 
health,  and  begged  a  song.  And  her  father, 
answering  for  her,  opened  the  spinet;  and 
there  would  follow  a  social  half-hour  in  which 
she  of  necessity  bore  a  part.  But  if  they 
walked  in  the  garden  or  the  avenue,  it  was 
always  Laurence  who  went  at  her  side. 

The  startled  surprise  that  had  come  to  her 
when  she  first  read  the  message  in  Laurence's 
eyes  grew  into  a  restless  embarrassment  as  the 
days  passed  and  she  found  herself  without  com 
fort;  for  all  the  sympathy  in  her  father's  and 
Mistress  Falkner's  faces  was  for  him.  The 
fruit,  the  first  wild  flowers,  the  little  gifts  he 
brought  her  from  the  settlement  warehouses 
were  no  longer  sent  to  her  room  by  a  servant, 
but  were  put  into  her  hand  with  some  pretty 
gallantry  or  whispered  tenderness  that  would 
take  nothing  less  than  her  personal  thanks. 
And  at  night  it  was  he  and  not  her  father  who 
now  brought  her  bedroom  candle,  and  sent 
her  up  the  wide  stair  with  the  feel  of  his  lips 


174  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

upon  her  hand  and  his  good-night  in  her 
ears.  Sometimes  she  reached  her  room  in 
a  strange  tremble,  and  sometimes  she  pulled 
the  coverlet  over  her  head  and  cried  herself 
to  sleep. 

In  the  late  April  days  William's  term  of  in 
denture  was  to  end,  and  there  was  to  be  a 
wedding  in  the  hall,  and  to  Judith  was  en 
trusted  the  choosing  of  the  wedding  gown 
which  Mistress  Falkner  was  to  give  Matilda. 
For  the  first  time  since  the  autumn  Judith 
went  to  Jamestown  and  spent  the  morning 
among  the  shops  and  warehouses,  going  over 
muslins  and  linens. 

"A  wedding  gown  is  it?"  asked  Tony,  get 
ting  down  from  his  high  stool  and  opening  the 
boxes  on  his  counter.  "Well,  well,  I'm  sorry 
for  the  man,  whoever  he  is." 

"He  needs  no  commiseration." 

"So  he  thinks  now — so  they  all  think  at 
first ;  but  sooner  or  later  they  find  the  bride's 
finery  is  a  shroud  for  the  man's  freedom.  Oh, 
'tis  no  use  to  look  so  unbelieving,  Mistress 
Judith;  I  have  seen  plenty  of  marrying  in  my 
time,  and  that's  the  way  it  goes." 

"Tony!" 

"Give  him  no  heed,  Judith;  he'll  be  doing 
penance  with  some  kind  deed  for  his  sour  words 


A  Happy  Day  at  Rivermead  175 

before   nightfall,"    laughed    Laurence,     as   he 
went  out  of  the  door. 

Tony  shot  out  his  lip  for  a  scornful  reply, 
but  Laurence  was  gone,  so  he  threw  a  pile  of 
goods  on  the  counter,  saying:  "Well,  here 
is  store  of  colours  for  you  to  choose  from — red, 
purple,  green— 

"No,  no;  take  them  away,  Tony.  A  bride 
should  go  only  in  white." 

"Then  here  is  a  bit  of  muslin  should  do  her. 
Come  here,  Lissa,  and  hold  this  up  against 
your  face  that  Mistress  Judith  may  judge  of 
its  texture." 

Lissa  gathered  the  snowy  folds  of  muslin 
under  her  chin  and  about  her  shoulders,  and 
smiled  over  the  counter  at  the  purchaser. 

"It  is,  indeed,  of  an  excellent  texture,  and 
suits  you  well.  One  of  these  days  you  will 
make  a  bonny  bride  for  some  fortunate  young 
man." 

But  Tony  caught  the  muslin  roughly  away 

and  sent  the  girl  to  her  sewing  by  the  desk. 

'Tis  no  use  putting  bilious  notions  in  a  girl's 

head,"  he  said,  as  he  measured  off  the  muslin. 

"By  the  demi-gods,  Judith  Gary,"  exclaimed 
Governor  Berkeley,  coming  into  the  warehouse, 
"but  you  are  the  bonniest  flower  o'  the  spring 
time  !  Where  be  the  eyes  of  our  other  lads 


176  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

that  they  leave  all  the  gaps  down  for  Laurence 
Falkner  ?  Oh,  I  have  heard  about  him ! 
Lucky  dog  !  an'  I  were  a  score  of  years  younger 
and  had  not  the  finest  wife  in  the  land,  he 
should  have  a  rival,  for  I'd  ride  to  Rivermead 
myself  a-courting.  It's  enough  to  turn  a 
bachelor  like  Tony  here  sour  with  envy  just 
to  look  at  you." 

"It's  not  looking  at  a  woman  that  sours  a 
man,"  said  Tony,  "but  it's  summering  her  and 
wintering  her,  and  eating  the  victuals  she 
cooks." 

"Well,  well,  we'll  pray  for  our  friend  Lau 
rence's  digestion,"  laughed  His  Excellency,  and 
bowing  with  his  hat  to  his  heart  he  took  snuff 
with  Sir  Thomas  and  went  his  way. 

Judith  looked  after  him  angrily;  so  even 
strangers  were  beginning  to  think  of  her  and 
her  cousin  together.  Had  the  whole  world 
gone  blind  that  it  could  not  see  the  shadow 
on  her  heart? 

That  night,  over  the  stair  rail,  Laurence 
held  her  hand  a  moment  longer  than  usual. 

"Judith,  I  found  to-day  among  Tony's  store 
of  trinkets  a  trifle  which  pleased  me;  will  you 
wear  it  for  me?"  and  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  sinuous  band  of  gold  and  caught  it  about 
her  wrist,  where  it  gleamed  in  the  candlelight. 


A  Happy  Day  at  Rivermead  177 

Tis  very  beautiful,"  she  said  slowly,  for 
his  eyes  troubled  her. 

"You  like  it?  I  heard  you  admire  Ann's 
bracelet  yesterday." 

"But  this  is  prettier;  the  workmanship  is 
much  finer.  How  can  I  thank  you?" 

"You  did  not  need  to  ask  me  that  when 
I  pleased  you  at  Cotslea — you  knew  what 
thanks  I  liked  best,  how  the  touch  of  your 
lips  paid  me  a  thousand  fold  for  any 
service."  He  lifted  his  face  to  hers,  softly, 
almost  imperceptibly  drawing  her  to  him. 

The  colour  flamed  in  her  cheeks:  "You 
forget " 

"That  we  are  only  second  cousins?"  he 
laughed  softly.  "We  are  the  same  kin  now 
as  we  were  at  Cotslea." 

"True,  but  a  grown  woman  must  not  act 
like  a  child;  I  have  put  away  such  familiar 
behaviour." 

"Well,  I  can  never  outgrow  my  boyish 
taste,"  and  turning  back  her  sleeve,  he  ran 
his  lips  up  her  white  arm  to  the  elbow. 

"Laurence!     What  ails  you?  My  arm— 

"It  is  a  poor  substitute  for  your  lips,"  he 
laughed  again,  looking  up  at  her  as  she  stood 
on  the  stair  above  him.  "A  very  poor  sub 
stitute;  but  beggars,  it  seems,  must  not  be 


178  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

choosers;  and  this  is  better  than  no  thanks  at 
all." 

She  caught  her  hand  sharply  from  him,  and 
went  up  the  stair  without  a  word ;  but  as  far  as 
he  could  see  her  that  yellow  circlet  on  her  wrist 
was  glinting  in  the  candle  rays. 

William  and  Matilda  were  married  in  the 
hall,  with  the  white  servants  and  tenants  from 
the  neighbouring  plantations  to  see  them. 
Ann  and  Judith  had  made  the  red-cheeked 
bride  comely  in  her  simple  white,  and  there 
was  a  long  table  down  the  rear  porch  loaded 
with  the  dainties  which  Mistress  Falkner  knew 
how  to  prepare.  Laurence  had  the  minister 
all  the  way  from  Williamsburg,  and  Tony  was 
there  to  sign  the  register  and  witness  the  re 
turn  of  William's  papers. 

"You  have  ever  a  pin-thrust  for  woman's 
constancy;  there  is  an  example  above  your 
fault-finding,"  Laurence  said,  telling  him  of 
Matilda. 

"Oh,  well,  even  a  bad  cook  now  and  then 
turns  out  a  good  loaf;  but  they  are  accidents 
— accidents.  I've  long  settled  it  with  my 
self  that  Eve  was  created  in  an  April,  her 
daughters  are  so  changeable  of  mind.  There's 
Lissa;  when  she  thought  I'd  killed  Larry  Her- 
rick  (and  curse  me  for  a  failure  in  the  job  !), 


A  Happy  Day  at  Rivermead  179 

she  turned  on  me  like  a  fury,  forgetting  she  had 
set  me  on  to  it.  Then  she  nurses  him  a  week 
until  he  is  out  of  death's  grip,  never  sleeping 
day  or  night ;  and  the  first  day  he's  sane  enough 
to  understand  her,  she  tells  him  he's  a  devil  and 
she  hates  him;  and  she  throws  his  medicine 
cup  on  the  floor  and  comes  back  and  sits  by 
my  desk  all  day  and  sews  and  abuses  him. 
But  if  I  so  much  as  agree  with  her  abuse  she's 
ready  to  tear  me  limb  from  limb.  Oh,  I  tell 
you,  woman  was  made  out  of  cross-cut  clay 
wet  up  with  an  April  shower,  and  dried  in  an 
April  sun." 

"Well,  Tony,  I  find  her  very  sweet  despite 
her  April  tendencies." 

"Sweet  or  sour  is  but  a  matter  o'  palate. 
For  me,  the  test  of  a  woman  is  in  the  mischief 
she  makes.  Tis  said  the  devil  went  into  the 
ark  holding  on  to  the  tail  of  the  ass;  but  I 
misjudge  the  book  that's  writ  in  is  wrong. 
According  to  my  belief,  he  went  in  bunched 
up  in  Mistress  Noah's  apron  strings." 

"Out  upon  you,  Tony,  for  a  hair-splitting 
sceptic  !  Here  are  the  papers ;  let  us  go  and 
find  William." 

When  the  wedding  guests  were  gone,  the 
family  stood  together  on  the  veranda  and 
waved  a  farewell  to  William  and  the  young 


180  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

wife  who  had  waited  so  faithfully.  Happy 
enough  she  looked  sitting  beside  her  husband 
on  the  wagon  piled  high  with  gifts  from  Lau 
rence's  store  houses,  for  the  indentured  ser 
vant  went  not  empty  handed  from  his  gener 
ous  master's  door. 

"Not  Charles  Stuart,  going  in  peaceful  pro 
cession  to  his  coronation,  is  more  to  be  envied 
than  yonder  simple  labourer,"  said  Laurence. 

"And  I  can  wish  you  no  greater  blessing 
than  a  happiness  like  to  his,"  said  his  mother, 
kissing  him ;  which  was  so  unusual  a  thing  that 
Judith  looked  up  quickly;  but  finding  the 
older  woman's  eyes  fixed  on  her  wistfully  she 
turned  in  confusion  to  her  father.  Here,  too, 
she  met  a  gaze,  the  silent  entreaty  of  which 
made  her  own  seek  the  floor.  Were  they  all 
united  against  her?  Would  no  one  remember 
that  her  heart  was  dead  to  love  such  as  was 
riding  away  in  the  wagon  yonder  to  the  new 
cabin  on  the  meadow  ?  She  felt  Laurence's  eyes 
on  her  also, but  without  looking  at  him  she  turned 
and  entered  the  house;  and  spent  the  first 
hours  of  the  afternoon  instructing  the  new  maid 
in  Matilda's  duties,  singing  a  little  as  she  went 
through  the  closets,  thinking  of  her  former 
maid's  happiness.  At  the  end  of  the  hall  she 
stopped,  smiling,  now  that  the  sun  was  shin- 


"A  Happy  Day  at  Rivermead"         181 

ing,  and  dropping  on  her  knees  ran  her  hand 
along  the  edge  of  the  carpet  in  search  of  Charles 
Falkner's  hidden  treasure.  To-night  when 
the  wind  was  blowing  and  that  clear  tapping 
filled  the  air,  she  would  fly  from  the  spot  with 
averted  eyes. 

Her  task  of  instruction  finished,  she  went 
down  stairs  intending  to  read  to  her  father; 
but  he  was  on  the  side  porch  with  a  neighbour, 
so  she  went  aimlessly  down  the  avenue  under  the 
flecking  shadows  of  the  young  leaves.  Since  the 
coming  of  the  spring  the  boat-house  was  her 
favourite  resort,  looking  out  as  its  open  side 
did  upon  the  waters.  On  the  rustic  bench 
at  the  entrance  she  often  sat  for  hours,  watching 
the  shine  of  the  river  and  the  shadows  of  the 
birds  that  flitted  over  its  surface.  And  there 
Laurence  found  her  presently ;  her  hat  full  of 
purple  violets  and  golden  dandelions  gathered 
along  the  avenue.  He  threw  himself  beside 
her,  casting  his  hat  upon  the  boards  of  the 
miniature  pier  at  their  feet. 

"Does  the  river  siren  sing  you  sweet  songs, 
cousin,  that  you  favour  this  spot  so  much?" 

She  laughed.  "Perchance  it  is  the  siren, 
but  hitherto  I  have  thought  it  but  the  wind 
and  waves." 

"Then  I  take  it  you  have  never   seen   the 


1 82  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

mermaid  combing  her  sea-green  locks  beside 
the  water's  edge?" 

She  shook  her  head.  "And  truly  I  hope  I 
never  shall — sea-green  hair  being  not  to  my 
fancy."  She  threw  a  star-bright  dandelion  on 
the  water  and  watching  it  circle  in  and  out  of 
the  eddies,  said  lazily,  thinking  of  the  wedding : 
"What  a  happy  day  this  has  been  at  River- 
mead.  " 

"To  me  all  days  at  Rivermead  are  happy 
when  you  but  seem  content. " 

The  dandelion  had  reached  the  last  eddy 
and  was  clinging  a  moment,  as  with  the  in 
stinct  of  a  drowning  swimmer,  to  a  bit  of 
bramble  ere  being  carried  away  in  the  sweep  of 
the  current.  She  watched  it,  making  no  reply; 
yet  with  a  sudden  heart -throbbing  that  never 
failed  to  respond  to  that  note  in  his  voice. 

"You  have  been  with  us  a  whole  year, 
sweet  cousin." 

"A  year  and  a  month,  "  she  corrected. 

"True,  for  you  came  in  March,  thereby 
making  that  blustering  month  the  most  beauti 
ful  of  the  twelve.  Mind  you  how  I  said  that 
day  the  Stuarts'  misfortune  had  been  my 
blessing?" 

She  nodded,  laughing:  "And  I  said  you 
were  no  true  Royalist. " 


"A  Happy  Day  at  Rivermead"          183 

"Well,  at  least  I  am  a  true  lover,"  he  an 
swered,  with  a  touch  of  that  audacity  which 
often  marked  his  manner,  and  for  which  she 
somehow  never  found  a  reproof. 

His  hand  had  crept  along  the  back  of  the 
bench  they  occupied,  so  that  all  unconsciously 
she  sat  in  the  curve^of  his  arm  while  she  nervous 
ly  braided  together  the  stems  of  her  flowers. 

"Judith,"  he  said  very  softly,  "I  love  you; 
will  you  marry  me  and  live  here  at  Rivermead 
for  good,  making  all  days  happy  for  me?" 
There  was  no  answer,  but  the  flower  she  held 
lost  its  yellow  head.  "You  know  that  I  love 
you — that  I  have  always  loved  you,"  he  said, 
bending  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  averted  face. 

"And  Ann ? "  she  said  at  length. 

"That  was  but  a  piece  of  neighbourhood 
gossip;  some  old  woman's  tale.  You  did  not 
guess  it,  but  she  loved — well,  some  one  else; 
his  name  does  not  matter  now.  It  is  of  you 
and  your  love  I  wish  to  speak  and  think. " 

"  Did  I  not  say  a  month  ago  that  I  was  done 
with  love?" 

"But  I  refused  to  believe  it  then,  and  I  re 
fuse  now,"  he  answered,  thrusting  his  hand 
down  among  the  violets  in  her  hat,  seeking  her 
hand  hidden  there  and  holding  it  in  a  soft, 
warm  clasp.  "The  wounded  gull  to  which  you 


184  The  Wooing  of  Jiidith 

that  day  likened  yourself  is  healed  and  flown 
away.  So  the  blow  to  your  own  heart  will 
leave  but  a  scar." 

"But  suppose— 

"  I  love  you  enough  to  risk  it.  " 

"And  the  sweetheart  you  left  in  England? — • 
you  will  be  dreaming  of  her, ' '  she  said  after  a 
pause  in  which  she  had  remembered  the  en 
treaty  in  her  father's  look. 

The  arm  along  the  bench  rail  quivered  as  it 
clasped  her  shoulders :  "Yes,  always  dreaming 
of  her,  for  it  was  you,  beloved,  who  held  my 
heart  in  your  small  childish  hands,  even  as  you 
hold  it  there  to-day.  I  was  myself  too  young 
to  understand  then,  but  I  know  now  that  it  was 
love  that  made  me  court  your  blows  for  sake 
of  the  make-up  kiss,  love  that  filled  my  soul 
with  such  longing  that  I  was  desperate  for 
England." 

"You — have  loved  me — all  this  time?" 

"No  other  woman  has  ever  had  a  place  in 
my  heart,  "  he  whispered,  holding  her  with  that 
masterful  tenderness  which  women  find  it  so 
hard  to  resist.  She  was  trembling  violently; 
her  hat  slipped  down  beside  her,  and  the  out- 
spilled  violets,  dropping  into  the  stream,  went 
drifting  away  upon  the  sun-lit  ripples,  staining 


"A  Happy  Day  at  River  mead"         185 

them  as  with  the  purple  of  kings.  There  was  a 
long  silence,  during  which  she  neither  yielded 
herself  to  nor  drew  herself  from  him. 

"Judith — will  you  marry  me?" 

Still  she  was  silent;  all  of  his  generosity, 
his  gentleness  rose  before  her;  and  once  again 
she  saw  the  vivid  pleading  in  her  father's 
eyes. 

"Speak,  beloved;  will  you  be  my  wife?" 

"  If  you  wish  it,  yes, "  she  answered,  but  she 
did  not  turn  her  head. 

She  had  had  no  thought  of  answering  thus, 
but  the  sweet  appeal  of  his  voice  overcame  her ; 
something  within  her,  she  knew  not  what, 
answered  this  new  call  at  her  heart.  But  she 
could  not  look  at  him  while  he  held  her  hands 
and  told  her  all  his  tender  thoughts ;  she  could 
only  listen  with  her  mist-clouded  eyes  fixed  on 
the  gliding  water  as  it  carried  away  her  golden 
harvest  to  lose  it  among  the  whispering 
reeds. 

It  was  not  the  assent  that  Laurence  wanted, 
this  quiet  acquiescence ;  his  heart  was  eager  for 
the  lilies  of  love — for  the  blushes,  the  down 
cast  eyes,  the  shy  half  confessions,  the  air  of 
sweet  surrender  which  are  the  lover's  right 
divine.  But  in  his  heart  was  an  abiding  con 
fidence  that  these  things  would  come;  and  so 


1 86  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

he  sat  there  wooing  her  with  his  gentle  words 
until  the  stars  came  out  to  make  the  twilight 
mellow  with  a  shimmer  that  was  not  yet  a 
radiance. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    MESSAGE    OF    DOOM. 

"And  the  weaver's  shuttles  were  busy  at  play; 
But  the  threads  were  sombcrest  black  that  day. " 

-HpHERE  were  times  during  the  following 
•*•  days  when  Judith,  realizing  the  full 
meaning  of  her  promise,  longed  to  beg  her 
father  to  intercede  with  Laurence  for  her 
release;  but  he  forestalled  her  every  effort  by 
some  new  expression  of  his  satisfaction. 

"  There  is  but  one  other  thing  could  have  made 
me  half  so  happy,  Judy  child — the  restoration 
of  King  Charles,  but  that  grows  more  doubtful 
every  day,  for  you  know  what  Robert  wrote  of 
Cromwell's  invasion  of  Scotland." 

"  The  brave  Scots  will  drive  him  back. " 
"No;  he  will  succeed;  he  always  does,  by 
some  strange  miscarriage  of  Providence.     Mine 
eyes  will  never  see  the  crowning  of  the  king; 
and  so  the  hope  that  was  for  him,  now  centers 
all  in  you.     Only  a  few  years  of  life  are  left  to 
me,  and  it  comforts  me  as  nothing  else  could  to 
know   that    I    shall   leave    you   in    Laurence's 
187 


1 88  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

hands.  I  foresaw  this  possibility  when  we 
came  here,  remembering  his  old  affection  for 
you.  That  things  have  come  as  I  wished  is 
the  one  bright  spot  in  the  cloud  that  has  en 
veloped  me  of  late." 

After  that  she  could  only  hide  her  wet  eyes 
against  his  shoulder. 

"And  when  will  you  let  the  wedding  come? 
May  it  not  be  within  the  month,  Judith?" 
asked  Laurence. 

"Nay,"  cried  his  mother;  "there  is  ever  ill 
luck  in  a  May  wedding.  Heard  you  never  the 
saying  that  a  May-time  bride  dies  early? 
You  must  make  him  wait  until  June,  Judith. " 

"Only  until  the  first  day,  then." 

"The  first  day?"  faltered  Judith. 

"  Yes;  I  will  not  be  put  off  twenty-four  hours 
longer;  so  set  your  sewing  women  to  work." 

And  so  among  them  it  was  settled  that  the 
first  of  June  should  be  her  wedding  day ;  but  in 
the  preparations  that  Mistress  Falkner  imme 
diately  set  on  foot  she  took  so  little  interest  that 
the  older  woman  was  often  incensed. 

"  Saw  I  ever  before  a  girl  who  cared  not  to 
look  at  her  wedding  gown?"  she  cried  in  dis 
appointment,  folding  up  the  shining  stuff  at 
which  Judith  had  barely  glanced. 

But  she  must  have  some  one  to  admire  the 


The  Message  of  Doom  189 

dainty  things  she  and  Matilda  were  fashioning, 
so  Ann  and  Alary  Lewis  were  fetched  for  a 
week  to  advise  about  the  sewing  and  the  final 
festal  clay.  And  soon  the  house  was  full  of 
noise  and  gaiety,  for  the  gallants  of  a  commun 
ity  will  always  haunt  the  house  where  three 
pretty  maids  are  biding ;  and  there  was  music  in 
the  parlour  and  games  in  the  hall,  and  Sir 
Thomas  was  as  a  boy  for  happiness. 

"The  joy  of  it  all  rises  in  me  like  the  sap  in 
the  trees,"  he  said,  patting  Judith's  cheek, 
and  noticing  that  the  frightened  shadow  in  her 
eyes  grew  fainter  each  day. 

"You  have  forgotten  Arthur,"  Ann  said 
once,  as  the  two  braided  their  hair  for  the  night. 

"No,  I  shall  never  forget  him;  I  wish  for 
Laurence's  sake  I  could." 

The  black  eyes  swept  over  her  with  a  merci 
less  light :  "  Marrying  one  man,  and  in  love  with 
another  man's  memory  ! — and  yet  you  upbraid 
me  for  the  double  dealing  of  coquetry." 

"I  am  not  wronging  or  deceiving  Laurence; 
he  understands,"  was  the  haughty  reply. 
"  But  you  make  believe  to  care  for  one  man 
to-day,  and  for  another  to-morrow  when  the 
first  one's  back  is  turned ;  and  that  is  deceitful.  " 

"True,"  said  Ann,  stretching  out  her  hand 
to  admire  the  slender  fingers,  "I  have  not  the 


190  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

conscientious  loyalty  that  marks  your  charac 
ter  in  that  respect.  I  must  coquette  a  little,  or 
languish  like  a  starved  plant.  But,"  she 
added,  with  an  emphasis  Judith  did  not  under 
stand,  "  I  would  be  absolutely  true  in  my  heart 
to  the  man  I  once  loved,  be  he  living  or  dead.  " 

"We  are  all  true  in  our  hearts,"  Judith  an 
swered,  reaching  for  the  snuffers  to  put  out  the 
light. 

The  joyous  side  of  her  nature,  so  long 
repressed,  began  to  respond  to  the  influences 
about  her,  and  each  day  the  new  gaiety  of 
the  house  jarred  less  upon  her.  The  same 
loyalty  of  nature  that  had  made  her  desolate 
for  Arthur,  now  made  her  strive  vehemently 
for  cheerfulness  because  of  her  new  pledge  to 
Laurence  ;  and  gradually,  as  the  strength  and 
sweetness  of  his  love  grew  into  her  conscious 
ness,  there  came  to  her  a  new  regard  for  him. 
Not  the  palpitant  feeling  that  had  made  her 
go  red  and  white  at  Arthur's  step,  but  a  feeling 
of  rest  and  confidence  \vhich  showed  itself  in 
small  ways,  filling  Laurence  with  a  boundless 
happiness.  She  looked  forward  with  no  pleas 
urable  anxiety  to  her  wedding;  but  she  no 
longer  thought  of  it  with  a  shudder.  She  ran 
away  from  the  sewing-room  whenever  Mistress 
Falkner's  back  was  turned ;  but  in  her  manner 


The  Message  of  Doom  191 

there  were  now  and  then  flashes  of  her  old  fun — 
so  nobody  scolded  when  she  hid  herself  whole 
mornings  with  her  book  in  the  arbour  of  the 
boat-house.  But  Laurence  always  knew  where 
to  find  her,  and  taking  the  book  with  playful 
force  he  made  her  listen  to  his  eager  love- 
making  or  the  plans  for  their  future  together. 
With  rare  foresight  he  claimed  no  lover's  privi 
leges  save  to  hold  in  his  strong,  brown  hand 
her  small,  white  one;  and  each  week,  as  that 
sense  of  confidence  grew  in  her  heart,  she  was 
more  submissive  in  leaving  it  there. 

Thus  the  May  days  went  by,  sweet  sym 
phonies  of  bird-song  and  flower-fragrance,  each 
one  singing  itself  to  sleep  upon  the  great  heart 
of  time.  Together  Laurence  and  Judith  saw 
the  roses  bud  and  shatter  and  the  honeysuckle 
go  from  silver  to  gold;  together  they  watched 
the  gray  gulls  ride  the  evening  wind  and  the 
lilies  blow  purple  with  pomp  beside  the  river. 
But  for  all  the  beauty  of  those  days  Laurence 
welcomed  every  sunset,  since  it  brought  that 
much  nearer  the  first  of  June. 

"There  are  but  two  days  left,"  he  said  at 
last  to  Judith,  laying  his  hand  upon  her  hair 
and  smiling  into  her  eyes.  "  But  two  days ;  and 
then  you  belong  to  me." 

They  were  standing  on  the  boat-house  pier  in 


192  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

the  freshness  of  the  early  morning ;  everywhere 
around  them  were  the  parti-coloured  evidences 
of  the  season — green  leaves,  crimson-streaked 
buds,  and  trailing  lengths  of  wide-eyed  blos 
soms.  The  light  fell  in  flickering  patches 
through  the  tremulous  branches,  and  the  river 
caught  in  its  rippled-silver  the  iris  of  the  bend 
ing  sky.  The  boat  tied  at  their  feet  rocked 
lazily  among  the  lily  pads,  and  somewhere  over 
head  a  bird  sang  softly  to  its  listening  mate. 
Some  intangible  but  thralling  influence  perme 
ated  the  air;  some  spirit  of  life  and  destiny 
seemed  to  have  joined  hands  with  the  spring 
time  under  the  slanted  gold  of  the  sunlight.  A 
pulse  in  Laurence  stirred  in  answer  to  the  subtle 
spell  of  the  place  and  hour. 

"Judy,  "  he  whispered,  bending  down  to  her; 
"you  have  been  my  promised  wife  for  a  whole 
month,  and  never  once  have  I  kissed  you ;  turn 
your  face  this  way  for  one  divine  moment. " 

He  asked,  but  he  did  not  wait  for  her  con 
sent,  for  before  he  had  ceased  speaking  he  had 
drawn  her  close-  into  his  arms  and  his  lips 
sought  hers  with  the  pent-up  passion  of  weeks 
of  waiting.  In  that  one  fleeting  moment  she 
measured  for  the  first  time  the  full  strength  of 
his  love;  and  when  he  released  her  she  was  as 
pale  as  he.  For  a  long  minute  they  stood  in 


The  Message  of  Doom  193 

silence,  she  slowly  realizing  a  new  phase  in  the 
life  before  her;  he,  too  vividly  content  to  care 
for  speech. 

But  the  boat  rocking  in  the  river  at  their 
feet  reminded  him  of  the  errand  upon  which 
he  was  that  morning  intent,  which  was  nothing 
less  than  to  bespeak  the  services  of  the  minister 
for  the  marriage  two  days  later.  To  no  one  else, 
nor  yet  to  written  words  would  he  entrust  such 
a  message;  he  alone  must  speak  it  to  his 
Reverence ;  and  so  he  was  now  upon  his  way 
to  the  settlement. 

"A  hundred  ways  I  have  fashioned  to  myself 
what  I  shall  say  to  his  Reverence,  but  it  all 
resolves  itself  into  the  happy  sentence :  Come 
and  marry  me  to  Judith  two  days  hence. " 

And  presently  he  stepped  down  into  the 
boat  and  untied  it  from  the  pier.  "  I  may 
kiss  you  again  for  farewell?"  he  asked  as  he 
stood  up,  and  the  eagerness  of  his  tone  was 
mixed  with  a  sudden  shyness  that  was  almost 
boyish. 

"No,"  she  answered  hastily.  But  she  fast 
ened  a  flower  in  his  coat  and  gave  him  her  hand 
and  wished  him  a  good  journey. 

A  few  yards  out  in  the  stream  he  rested  on 
his  oars  to  call  back  some  pleasantry  as  to  how 
witching  she  looked  on  the  rude  pier  with  the 


194  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

trailing  scarlet  of  the  woodbine  above  her, 
and  the  purple  flag-lilies  at  her  feet.  And 
with  this  sweet  picture  of  her  in  his  mind  he 
swung  into  the  current  and  bent  to  his  oars, 
singing  as  he  went  for  the  joy  that  throbbed 
in  his  heart. 

A  vessel  lay  in  the  offing,  a  trader's  schooner, 
but  this  morning  come  to  anchor.  There  was 
something  of  the  usual  excitement  in  the 
streets  of  the  settlement  as  he  passed  along  them 
from  the  wharf,  but  he  was  too  intent  upon 
his  happy  errand  to  stop  and  ask  the  news. 
There  would  be  time  enough  for  that  later  on. 
He  found  the  minister  and  speedily  made  his 
arrangements. 

Retracing  his  steps  he  walked  more  slowly 
through  the  settlement,  talking  now  and  then 
with  the  sailors  who  mingled  with  the  towns 
people.  All  along  he  caught  talk  of  Cromwell's 
invasion  of  Scotland  and  the  sure  defeat  that 
awaited  Charles,  who  had  taken  the  humiliat 
ing  oath  prescribed  by  the  Covenanters.  Hav 
ing  gathered  the  news  to  carry  to  Sir  Thomas, 
he  was  on  his  way  back  to  his  canoe,  eager  to 
return  to  the  girl  waiting  for  him  on  the  pier 
at  home,  when  Tony  Foster  called  out  that  a 
letter  had  come  for  him  by  the  schooner.  Re 
turning  to  the  warehouse,  he  took  the  missive, 


The  Message  of  Doom  195 

wondering  at  the  strange  handwriting,  think 
ing  it  was  probably  from  his  London  solicitors 
about  that  lost  note  of  James  Randal  for  which 
they  were  making  search  among  his  father's 
old  papers.  Amos  would  be  glad  of  any  news. 
He  waited  until  he  wras  on  the  wharf  before  he 
broke  the  wafer,  and  opening  the  letter,  ran 
his  eyes  with  an  ever-growing  sense  of  be 
wilderment  and  despair  along  the  lines. 

"  Drogheda,  Ireland,  Jan.   20,   16— 
"  Master  Laurence  Falkner, 

"  Honoured  Sir :  I  write  in  great  strait  of  sor 
row,  begging  your  kindly  offices  in  my  behalf. 
September  gone  I  was  wounded  and  left  upon 
the  battlefield  for  dead.  And  dead  I  was 
for  any  thing  I  might  do  for  eight  long  weeks, 
being  sore  stricken  with  my  wounds  and  the 
prison  fever  that  got  into  my  blood.  Not  un 
til  after  the  Christmas-tide  was  I  able  to  set 
my  thoughts  upon  communicating  with  my 
friends  outside;  and  then  my  efforts  were  in 
vain,  as  I  wras  close  confined.  A  woman  who 
sells  poultry  to  the  garrison  will  take  mercy 
on  me  and  smuggle  this  into  the  post ;  and  not 
this  alone,  but  other  letters,  for  I  shall  surely 
write  again  in  a  few  days  if,  indeed,  the  prison 
fever  spares  me.  It  hath  already  claimed 
many  of  my  comrades,  and  I  do  greatly  fear  I 
have  but  escaped  one  death  to  fall  upon  an 
other;  for  these  three  days  I  seem  to  feel  it  in 
my  veins,  and  one  may  not  stand  it  twice. 


196  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"  I  know  not  where  your  cousin,  Mistress 
Judith  Gary,  may  be,  since  Robert  hoped  for 
his  father's  return ;  so  I  am  asking  you  to  com 
municate  to  her  the  fact  that  I  am  still  living 
and  have  in  happy  memory  all  the  words  she 
said  to  me  at  Rivermead.  I  pray  you  convey 
to  her  the  assurance  of  my  unceasing  regard. 
If  so  I  live,  I  will  trouble  you  with  a  letter 
for  her  soon. 

"  Allow  me,  Sir,  to  make  my  duty  to  you,  and 
to  remain 

"  Your  ob't  and  obliged  servant, 

"ARTHUR  SETON." 

Arthur  Set  on  ! 

Had  the  sun  gone  down,  and  was  it  bitter 
winter  rather  than  the  glad  May-time  that  all 
the  world  grew  so  suddenly  dark  and  cold? 
Laurence  thrust  the  letter  into  his  pocket, 
crushing,  as  he  did  so,  the  fragile  flower  Judith's 
hands  had  fastened  on  his  breast.  He  looked 
dazedly  at  the  ship  new  come  to  anchor,  then 
gazed  far  away  up  the  river  toward  a  spot 
where  a  girl  in  a  white  dress  waited  for  him 
under  the  scarlet  woodbine  with  the  purple 
lilies  at  her  feet.  God !  how  near  he  had 
been  to  happiness  !  And  now 

"God  ! — God  in  heaven  !" 

He  took  a  few  staggering  steps  forward, 
threw  up  his  hands  with  a  hoarse  cry,  and  fell 
forward  prone  upon  the  boards  of  the  wharf. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    VOICE    OF    THE    TEMPTER. 

"  Such  gathered  dust,  when  they  had  hoped  to  see 
The  richest  fruits ;  the  buds  that  promised  fair 
Were  early  blasted,  or  but  grew  to  be 
A  mockery — a  harvest  of  despair." 

— W.  C.  LODGE. 

A  SAILOR,  returning  to  his  ship,  found 
"*•  *•  the  stricken  man  upon  the  wharf  and, 
lifting  him,  poured  a  little  rum  into  his 
throat,  and  left  him  to  revive  in  the  shadow 
of  a  tree  on  the  bank.  There  Tony  Foster 
found  him  half  an  hour  later,  and  cried  out 
over  his  pallor  and  his  anguished  eyes : 

"What  has  come  to  you,  Laurence? — an 
hour  ago  you  had  the  look  of  a  veritable  bride 
groom;  now  you  are  as  a  wraith.  If  so  Judith 
Gary  could  see  you  this  minute,  she  would 
think  of  widow's  weeds,  rather  than  bridal 
veils." 

"The — heat '  murmured  Laurence. 

"Tut,  man;  'tis  not  so  hot.  You  need  your 
mother's  medicine  box.  You  must  be  looking 
to  yourself;  swamp  fever  and  a  new  wife  taken 


198  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

together  would  be  too  great  a  trial  for  any 
man's  constitution." 

"I  shall  be  all  right;  just  help  me  to  my 
boat."  But  he  shuddered  as  he  thought 
where  and  to  whom  the  boat  would  carry 
him. 

But  Tony  saw  William  on  the  street,  and 
shouted  to  him.  "Bring  your  wagon  down 
here ;  Laurence  is  not  to  be  trusted  on  the  river ; 
a  girl  would  have  more  strength  with  the  oars." 

All  the  way  home  Laurence  was  tormented 
with  the  image  of  Judith  when  she  came  to 
know  the  contents  of  the  letter — her  joy  over 
Arthur's  escape  and  future  return,  her  quick 
cancelling  of  the  bonds  which  held  her  to  him 
self — the  utter  annihilation  of  all  his  hopes — 
the  destruction,  worse  than  death,  of  his  happi 
ness. 

Twice  he  turned  back  from  the  gate  unable, 
through  sheer  misery,  to  go  in  with  his  tidings. 
When  at  last  he  reached  the  veranda  his 
shoulders  were  stooped  and  his  step  was  that 
of  an  old  man. 

"Good  God,  Laurie  !  What  ails  you?"  cried 
Sir  Thomas,  meeting  him. 

"I — I  have  got  my  death  wound.- — Nay,  do 
not  call  anyone  yet,"  he  answered  thickly,  and 
motioned  to  the  library  door.  Sir  Thomas 


The  Voice  of  the  Tempter  199 

shot  the  bolt  behind  them,  for  some  intuition 
told  him  that  this  interview,  whatever  its 
nature,  should  be  between  them.  In  the 
middle  of  the  room  the  two  men  faced  each 
other  in  an  agonized  silence;  then  Sir  Thomas 
cried  out: 

"I  know  what  it  is;  that  old  note  of  your 
father's  to  Randal  for  which  you  can  find  no 
receipt.  Tut,  tut,  man,  let  it  not  so  harass 
you.  If  we  cannot  'stablish  its  payment,  why, 
we  will  pay  it  again  without  all  this  worry. 
I  have  a  few — 

"It  is  not  that — would  to  God  it  were  !  " 

' '  Why,  what  then  ?     Speak  out. ' ' 

"Arthur  Seton — he  is  alive  !  " 

His  parched  lips  faltered  over  the  words, 
but  the  absolute  hopelessness  of  his  voice  gave 
them  the  force  of  a  truth. 

"Alive?  Impossible!"  cried  Sir  Thomas. 
"Why,  man,  did  not  Robert  see  him  fall?" 

"True ;  but  he  was  only  stunned  and  wounded. 
See,  here  is  a  letter  I  had  this  day." 

He  spread  the  letter  upon  the  table  and 
sank  into  a  chair,  covering  his  face  with  his 
hands.  For  a  minute  after  the  perusal  Sir 
Thomas  was  speechless;  then  his  wrath  broke 
forth  in  a  volley  of  oaths  which  left  him  ex 
hausted.  For  a  long  while  there  was  a  silence 


2oo  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

in  the  room.  A  dog  barked  out  on  the  lawn; 
the  wind  fluttered  the  curtains,  and  a  length 
of  blossomed  vine  swung  itself  partly  in  at  the 
open  window.  Still  neither  of  them  spoke. 

"  The  sunshine  lies  around  me 

All  the  day,  all  the  day; 
And  the  sombre  shadows,  lifting, 
Pass  away,  pass  away." 

It  was  Judith  humming  in  the  hallway. 
Her  step  paused  at  the  door  and  the  knob 
turned  under  her  hand.  Neither  of  the  men 
moved  for  a  minute;  then  stolidly,  almost 
sullenly,  Laurence  got  up  and  took  a  step  for 
ward  ;  but  Sir  Thomas  seized  his  sleeve. 

"What  in  heaven's  name  are  you  going  to 
do  ?"  he  cried  in  an  angry  whisper. 

"Let  her  in  and — tell  her." 

"Great  God,  man  !  Of  what  are  you  think 
ing  ?  Know  you  not  that  means  ruin  ?" 

Laurence  stared,  not  comprehending.  "The 
ruin  has  already  come,"  he  answered,  still  in 
that  hopeless  voice. 

"No;  it  but  threatens;  perchance  we  may 
avert  it.  Sit  down."  Then  raising  his  voice 
from  a  whisper  he  called  out  to  Judith,  who 
was  now  knocking:  "Go  away,  Judy  child; 
we  are  looking  after  some  business  and  cannot 
be  disturbed. 


The  Voice  of  the  lempter  201 

"But,  father,  William  says  he  brought— 
Laurence  home  but  indifferent  well."  She 
had  been  trying  of  late,  at  his  wish,  to 
leave  off  the  cousinly  prefix  to  his  name;  and 
this  slight  hesitation  gave  to  her  speech  a  most 
seductive  charm.  Hearing  it  now  Laurence 
knew  its  meaning  and  ground  his  teeth  as  he 
hid  his  face  in  his  arm  on  the  table. 

"True,  child,  but  'twas  the  business  upset 
him.  We  will  be  out  anon,  and  you  shall  give 
him  a  potion  to  cure  his  ill.  Go  away  now." 

"There  seems  nothing  else  to  do  since  you 
will  not  open  the  door.  But  talk  fast  and 
finish,  for  I  am  minded  to  play  the  doctor,  and 
am  going  now  to  brew  a  dose  for  him." 

There  was  no  word  or  movement  in  the  room 
until  the  sound  of  her  step  and  song  had  died 
to  an  echo  beyond  the  closed  doer.  Then  Sir 
Thomas  began  feverishly. 

"Laurie,  it  is  madness  to  tell  her.  We  do  not 
even  know  that  this  letter  is  genuine — the 
handwriting  is  certainly  not  much  like  that 
in  the  letters  Judith  had  from  Arthur.  Sup 
pose  it  should  turn  out  a  ruse  ?" 

"No  one  would  play  me  such  a  trick;  it  is 
genuine,"  was  the  dreary  answer. 

"And  what  think  you  will  come  of  telling 
her?" 


202  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"She — she  will — cast  me  over." 

"And  you  will  risk  that,  and  your  wedding 
but  two  days  hence  ?" 

"Is  there  anything  else  left  me  ?  I  could  not 
marry  her,  and  she  ignorant  of  what  we  know. ' ' 

"But  what  do  we  know'?  We  have  here  a 
letter  which  is  dated  more  than  four  months 
ago,  and  is  writ  in  a  hand  to  which  we  neither 
of  us  can  certify.  'Twould  be  the  veriest 
folly- 

"Nay,  Sir  Thomas,  she  must  be  told.  I 
know  what  it  means  to  me — a  surcease  to  all 
hope,  a  death  to  all  of  joy,  all  of  gladness.  I 
had  rather  die  than  see  the  look  that  will  come 
into  her  eyes  when  he  comes  back  to  claim 
her;  but — she — must  be  told." 

"And  I  who  am  her  father  say  she  must  not ! 
Listen  to  a  little  reason,  Laurence.  Suppose 
this  letter  to  be  all  true  as  you  say;  it  tells  of 
fever  raging  in  the  prison,  and  says  the  writer 
can  scarce  hope  to  'scape  it;  that  he  already 
feels  it  in  his  veins.  It  was  written  some 
four  months  ago,  for  the  vessel  that  brought 
it  must  have  taken  the  long  route  by  the  Ca 
naries  and  Hayti.  Since  the  time  of  its  posting 
there  have  been  many  vessels  direct  from 
England  and  Ireland.  Think  you  not  that  had 
Arthur  Seton — the  Devil  rest  his  soul ! — escaped 


The  Voice  of  the  Tempter  203 

the  fever  that  he  would  have  sent  another  let 
ter  by  one  of  those  ships  ?  He  says  here  that 
he  will  write  again  in  a  few  days,  that  he  will 
send  you  a  letter  for  Judy  if  so  he  lives.  The 
old  woman  is  friendly  and  ready  to  post  his 
letters;  hence  had  he  written  we  must  have 
had  that  second  letter  before  this  first,  making 
the  long  voyage  this  one  did.  That  the  letters 
to  you  and  Judy  came  not,  is  proof  sufficient 
unto  my  mind  that  he  is  dead  of  the  fever." 

Laurence  looked  up  eagerly:  "If  we  could 
but  establish  that  fact,  all  might  yet  be  well." 

"Methinks  it  is  already  established  of  it 
self.  What  need  we  of  further  proof?" 

Laurence  shook  his  head,  but  there  was  a 
wistful  questioning  in  his  eyes ;  the  bare  thought 
of  exemption  from  this  desolating  grief  was  so 
dangerously  sweet. 

Sir  Thomas  went  over  the  argument  again, 
strengthening  it  by  his  own  assumption  of 
its  validity.  He  showed  how,  even  if  Arthur 
had  had  the  fever  and  recovered,  there  had 
still  been  ample  time  for  a  letter  by  one  of  the 
many  ships  which  had  come  to  port  of  late. 
It  was  scarce  likely  he  would  be  sick  more  than 
a  month,  unless  he  were  sick  unto  death ;  and 
after  that  one  month  three  still  remained  for 
the  sending  and  receiving  of  tidings.  Having 


204  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

been  so  long  denied  the  privilege  of  communi 
cating  with  his  friends  it  was  out  of  all  reason 
to  suppose  he  would  neglect  this  new-found 
opportunity;  particularly  so  as  he  had  in 
his  first  epistle  raised  an  anxiety  as  to  his  wel 
fare.  No,  he  was  dead ;  there  was  but  this  one 
explanation  of  his  silence  since  the  writing  of 
this  letter  which  they  had  before  them. 

Under  the  light  of  this  presentation  it  all 
seemed  so  possible;  nay,  so  probable,  that  by 
degrees  Laurence  lifted  his  head  and  the  leaden 
hopelessness  died  out  of  his  eyes. 

"If  we  could  but  convince  her  of  that  she 
might  yet  marry  me,"  he  said,  hoping,  yet 
hesitating. 

"Convince  her  of  it !  Why  need  she  be  told 
of  it  at  all?"  cried  Sir  Thomas,  impatiently. 
"Look  you,  Laurence,  she  thinks  less  of  Arthur 
day  by  day,  and  day  by  day  she  is  turning 
more  to  you.  Tell  her  this,  and  what  will 
follow?  Why,  she  will  begin  all  over  again  to 
grieve  for  him ;  she  will  live  in  fancy  every  day 
of  his  prison  experience,  suffer  in  imagination 
every  agony  he  felt ;  and  we  shall  have  to  en 
dure  again  the  sorrow  of  those  weary  days  last 
winter ;  and  who  knows  if  you  would  ever  again 
be  able  to  persuade  her  to  listen  to  you?  I 
doubt  it  much.  Nay,  I  tell  you  that  if  you 


The  Voice  of  the  Tempter  205 

want  her  you  must  hold  to  her  now  that  you 
have  her." 

Laurence  breathed  hard ;  the  temptation  was 
so  strong  upon  him.  "And  suppose  that  in 
after  years  she  should  come  to  know?" 

"How  should  that  be?  The  secret  is  ours, 
and  methinks  we  should  have  wit  enough  to 
keep  it  between  us.  Besides,  in  those  years 
to  come  you  will  be  her  husband  to  whom 
much  will  be  forgiven  because  of  the  love  she 
gives  you,  a  love  which  will  far  surpass  the 
sentimental  fancy  she  once  had  for  Seton." 

The  younger  man  made  no  answer.  He  was 
conjuring  up  visions  of  those  distant,  happy 
days ;  visions  whose  every  alluring  light  sapped 
his  strength  of  purpose  and  left  him  more  at 
the  mercy  of  the  tempter.  With  an  .almost 
superhuman  effort  to  hold  by  the  right  he 
shut  his  eyes  on  those  mental  pictures  only 
to  be  assailed  through  another  sense;  for  to 
his  straining  ears  the  house  seemed  suddenly 
flooded  with  laughter  and  the  sweet  treble  of 
childish  voices — his  children  and  hers.  He 
hid  his  face  again,  trembling  as  with  an  ague. 
He  had  loved  her  longest,  loved  her  best ; ' 
surely  he  should  reap  the  reward  of  his  patient 
wooing ! 

"Arthur  Seton  will  never  return,"  went  on 


206  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

the  voice  of  the  tempter,  "but  show  her  this 
letter,  and  you  unsettle  her  mind  and  plunge 
her  again  into  that  melancholy  which  had  for 
us  all  so  sad  a  consequence.  Aye,  perhaps  you 
may  do  more ;  you  may  kill  her  with  the  shock 
and  the  wearing  suspense.  Are  you  willing 
to  risk  that  ?  But  hold  your  peace,  and  in  two 
days  she  will  be  your  wife,  with  all  the  happi 
ness  that  may  mean  to  you,  and  the  safety 
it  holds  for  her.  If  does  not  seem  that  the 
choice  between  the  two  would  be  hard  to 
make." 

The  hours  crept  by  while  they  talked,  and 
the  sun  was  beginning  to  peep  in  at  the  western 
window.  Suddenly  a  new  thought  came  to 
Laurence. 

"Sir  Thomas,"  he  cried  excitedly,  "the 
Randals !  Surely  if  Arthur  Seton  be  alive 
they  will  know  it.  Let  us  to  horse  at  once 
and  ride  thither  and  ask  what  tidings  they 
have." 

"We  are  spared  the  necessity,"  answered  his 
kinsman,  who  stood  by  one  of  the  windows, 
"for  here  are  Amos  and  Ann  riding  down  the 
avenue.  Remain  here,  Laurence,  and  let  me 
find  out  what  their  errand  may  be.  You  are 
scarce  a  sight  for  company,  haggard  as  you 
are.  Lock  the  door  behind  me  that  no  one 


The  Voice  of  the  Tempter  207 

may  enter  until  my  return.  I  will  make  your 
excuses  to  the  visitors." 

"I  will  come  presently." 

"No;  you  must  not  come  at  all.  You  are 
better  to  receive  the  news,  whether  good  or 
bad,  without  any  witnesses.  Come,  lock  the 
door  after  me,  and  think  over  what  I  have  said ; 
if  you  love  my  girl,  you  will  not- fail  to  see  I  am 
right." 

He  went  away  hastily,  waiting  outside  only 
to  be  sure  the  key  was  turned  in  the  lock.  Not 
even  for  the  surety  of  Charles's  crown  would 
he  have  Judith  enter  that  door. 

Alone  in  the  shadowy  room,  Laurence  sank 
again  beside  the  table,  turning  his  back  on  the 
sunshine  and  the  mocking  spray  of  blossoms 
that  flouted  him  through  the  window.  There 
was  nothing  but  darkness  in  his  soul,  and  the 
sight  of  outside  joy  and  light  tortured  him. 
Painfully,  point  by  point,  he  went  over  the 
conversation  with  Sir  Thomas;  over  his  own 
conviction  that  to  tell  the  whole  truth  was 
best,  and  Sir  Thomas's  argument  for  silence — 
how  subtly  the  old  man  had  worded  it,  how 
artfully  he  had  drawn  the  happiness  and  the 
misery  of  the  contrasting  pictures  ! 

Moving  his  hand,  something  rasped  it ;  it  was 
the  broken  stem  of  the  flower  Judith  had 


2o8  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

fastened  to  his  coat,  and  the  sight  of  it  brought 
back  that  parting  in  the  boat-house.  He  felt 
again  the  touch  of  her  fingers,  the  flutter  of  her 
breath  on  his  cheek ;  and  then  there  rushed  over 
him  the  memory  of  that  first  love  kiss — her 
soft,  warm  lips  on  his,  the  quiver  of  her  shoul 
ders  under  his  arms ;  and  the  groan  in  his  throat 
died  to  a  whisper  of  agony.  He  could  not  give 
her  up,  he  could  not !  it  was  beyond  human 
strength. 

But  the  dishonour  of  deceiving  her,  the  shame 
of  having  her  come  some  day  to  know  it  ? 

He  could  not  help  it ;  he  would  meet  the  new 
sorrow  when  it  came ;  but  he  could  not  give  her 
up ! 

But  stay,  the  choice  of  telling  her  might  no 
longer  remain  with  him;  Ann  Randal  might 
have  had  tidings  like  his  own.  Mayhap  she 
was  at  this  moment  telling  Judith  the  wonder 
ful  news,  waking  the  girl's  heart  out  of  its 
long  apathy.  He  could  see  her  face  lighting 
up,  her  eyes  kindling,  her  lips  moving  to  cry 
out  her  joy;  and  with  a  fierce  movement  he 
pressed  his  palms  over  his  own  ears  to  shut 
out  the  possible  sound  of  her  voice. 

And  thus  he  sat  through  a  half-hour  that 
was  an  eternity,  racked  one  way  and  another 


The  Voice  of  the  Tempter  209 

by  temptation  and  honour.  Then  Sir  Thomas 
called  him  at  the  door,  and  he  got  up  and 
turned  the  key,  moving  slowly  and  heavily,  as 
one  who  goes  to  hear  his  death  sentence. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"THREAD  OP  LOVE,   OR  THREAD  OF  SIN?" 

"  Click,  click — another  thread  is  woven  in; 
Is  it  thread  of  love  or  thread  of  sin  ?  " 

""\7"OU  need  not  look  so  like  a  ghost,"  Sir 
Thomas  cried,  as  soon  as  the  door 
was  closed;  "the  Randals  know  nothing;  the 
secret  is  still  our  own,  so  are  we  safe. " 

Laurence  reeled  back  into  his  chair,  the  cer 
tainty  that  Judith  was  not  already  beyond  his 
reach  making  him  dizzy  with  the  relief  of  a 
momentary  respite. 

"Ann  went  at  once  to  the  sewing  room  with 
Judith  to  inspect  some  new  bit  of  finery,  and 
Amos  and  I  were  left  on  the  porch.  He  was 
just  from  the  settlement ;  I  asked  him  if  the  ship 
had  brought  any  special  tidings,  and  he  an 
swered  no.  Then,  leading  cautiously  up  to 
the  subject  through  a  reference  to  my  son's 
death,  I  got  him  to  talking  of  young  Seton, 
and  presently  asked  the  direct  question  whether 
his  family  had  ever  heard  anything  more  con 
cerning  his  death  than  was  writ  in  Robert's 

210 


"Thread  of  Love,  Or  Thread  of  Sin?"     211 

letter.  He  answered,  nothing,  except  a  letter 
from  an  aunt  in  Ireland  confirming  the  report. 
She  often  writes  to  his  mother,  and  recently 
they  had  letters  from  her,  but  she  never  men 
tions  Seton." 

"She  was  his  favourite  kinswoman;  I  have 
heard  him  speak  of  her." 

"Yes;  and  that  is  added  proof,  if  we  needed 
any,  that  he  no  longer  lives.  He  would  surely 
have  communicated  with  her,  since  she  only 
was  near  enough  to  give  him  aid." 

He  had  made  a  good  point,  he  thought,  a 
point  that  would  go  far  toward  establishing 
his  theory;  but  Laurence  did  not  lift  his  eyes 
from  the  carpet  at  which  he  was  staring  drearily. 
Presently  he  asked : 

"And  what  of  Ann  ?  How  did  she  act ;  what 
did  she  say?" 

"She  talked  mostly  to  Judith  of  frills  or 
herring-bone  or  some  such  feminine  frippery; 
but  she  was  in  fine  spirits,  laughing  and  jesting 
about  the  wedding  day  after  to-morrow.  She 
had  Judy  red  as  a  rose  about  you." 

"In  God's  name,  Sir  Thomas,  do  not  torture 
me  with  such  tempting  words  !  Tis  a  cruelty 
unspeakable."  Then  in  a  moment  he  had 
stretched  out  his  hand:  "Pardon  me;  I  am 
so  unstrung  I  am  not  responsible.  I  am 


212  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

thinking,  not  of  myself,  but  of  the  best  way  to 
protect  Judith's  happiness." 

"The  best  way  to  protect  her  happiness  is  to 
keep  the  secret  that  has  come  to  us,  and  let 
the  wedding  go  forward.  As  her  father,  I 
am  willing  to  assume  any  responsibility  that 
may  arise  out  of  the  matter  in  the  future." 

"That  could  not  relieve  me  of  blame — her  re 
proach  would  fall  on  me." 

"Well,  well;  I  shall  urge  you  no  more,  though 
her  happiness  is  the  dearest  thing  on  earth  to 
me.  You  and  Seton  between  you  seem  del 
termined  to  break  her  heart — my  pretty,  frail 
flower !  You  will  act  as  you  see  fit  in  this 
matter,  of  course;  only  remember  that  if  you 
play  the  fool  and  give  her  up,  the  responsibility 
is  all  with  you ;  whereas  if  you  choose  the  other 
course,  I  take  the  blame  upon  my  own  shoul 
ders,  and  will  stand  between  you  and  her  up 
braiding,  should  she  have  any." 

He  went  away  in  something  of  a  temper,  for 
he  had  said  all,  and  possibly  more  than  he  felt 
was  incumbent  on  him.  This  marriage  wras 
the  absorbing  wish  of  his  heart,  but  he  would 
urge  his  daughter  no  further  upon  any  man. 
He  was  quite  convinced  that  his  argument  was 
true  and  Arthur  was  no  longer  alive;  and  he 
was  angry  that  Laurence  did  not  see  it  all  as 


''Thread  of  Love,  Or  Thread  of  Sin?"     213 

he  did.  To  break  up  the  wedding  on  its  very 
eve  meant  not  only  a  bitter  disappointment  to 
them,  but  the  starting  of  endless  gossip  and 
comment  throughout  the  community;  and  of 
such  discussion  of  his  family  affairs  he  was 
resentfully  impatient.  It  was  this  last  thought 
that  made  him  shut  the  door  behind  him  with 
such  a  snap.  Judith  was  just  coming  down 
the  stair,  and  Mistress  Falkner,  in  the  dining- 
room,  heard  him  say  to  her : 

"Judy,  Laurence  is  not  ill,  but  much  worried 
over  a  piece  of  business.  Now,  'tis  my  express 
wish  that  you  be  very  gentle  with  him — 'tis 
a  good  time  to  begin  to  practise  that  consider 
ation  which  you  will  soon  owe  him.  Do  not 
insist  on  knowing  the  nature  of  his  business; 
indeed,  I  wish  that  you  shall  decline  positively 
to  discuss  it  with  him.  'Twould  only  harrow 
you  and  do  him  no  good ;  he  has  a  right  to  keep 
it  to  himself;  we  cannot  expect  him  to  tell  us 
all  his  affairs— 

The  rest  was  lost  to  the  older  woman  as  the 
two  walked  away  to  the  porch,  but  she  heaved 
a  sigh  that  nothing  very  serious  was  the  matter 
with  Laurence  bodily;  and  presently  she  got 
up  and  knocked  at  the  library  door,  but  had  no 
answer. 

Left  alone  once  more,  Laurence  thought  more 


214  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

coherently.  That  the  Randals  had  heard 
nothing  of  Arthur  personally  or  through  the 
aunt  who,  of  all  his  family,  might  have  reached 
him,  seemed  proof  indeed  of  his  death.  She 
was  within  fifty  miles  of  his  prison;  communi 
cation  with  her  would  have  been  comparatively 
easy.  He  began  to  believe  with  Sir  Thomas; 
the  man  was  dead;  but  at  the  same  time  he 
felt  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  live 
with  Judith  with  this  falsehood  betwreen  them. 
He  had  meant  that  their  lives  should  be  so 
free  from  concealments,  so  open  to  each  other 
that  by  and  by  they  should  come  to  know 
each  other's  very  thoughts;  and  here  upon 
the  threshold  of  his  life  with  her  fell  the  shadow 
of  this  temptation.  If  he  yielded,  always  he 
must  feel  like  a  coward,  always  he  must  live- 
in  the  fear  of  detection;  whenever  she  lifted 
her  clear  eyes  to  his  he  would  feel  the  humilia 
tion  of  his  deception.  The  idea  was  intoler 
able;  his  mind  was  made  up,  he  would  tell  her 
even  if  he  lost  her.  He  had  seen  her  go  down 
the  avenue  just  after  Sir  Thomas  left  the  room, 
and  he  knew  she  had  not  returned.  He  would 
not  go  out  through  the  hall  lest  he  meet  his 
mother  and  be  delayed  with  questions ;  he  must 
speak  to  Judith  at  once,  he  dared  not  trust  his 
resolution  to  an  hour's  respite;  so  he  swung 


"Thread  of  Love,  Or  Thread  of  Sin?"     215 

himself  out  of  the  window  and,  keeping  within 
the  shadow  of  the  shrubbery,  he  went  down 
the  sloping  path  to  the  river.  He  had  guessed 
aright,  she  was  there,  and  seeing  him  coming 
she  went  to  meet  him,  holding  out  both  her 
hands  with  a  smile  that  was  a  welcome  and  a 
reproach. 

"And  high  time  it  is,  sir,  that  you  showed 
your  face  in  the  open  air.  Methinks  I  was 
growing  a  bit  resentful  of  that  stupid  business, 
it  kept  you  so  long." 

He  could  not  answer,  and  so  turned  silently 
with  her  to  the  boat-house.  Here  where  her 
troth  had  been  given  him,  here  where  he  had 
taken  his  first  kiss  of  love,  he  must  test  his  fate 
and  win  or  lose  her  forever.  Once  on  the  bench 
he  tried  to  begin,  but  the  unwonted  tenderness 
of  her  manner  made  the  task  doubly  hard.  A 
mother  soothing  a  sick  child  could  scarce  have 
been  more  gentle  than  she.  He  covered  his 
face  with  a  suppressed  groan. 

"Judy,"  he  began,  and  hardly  recognized  his 
own  voice,  so  hoarse  it  was;  "Judy,  something 
has  happened,  something  that  may  have  the 
saddest  consequence  to  me." 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  lifting  his  hand  to  her 
soft  cheek.  "Let  me  help  you  to  forget  it." 


216  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"Nay,  I  must  tell  you — though  it  breaks  my 
heart." 

"Breaks  your  heart,  and  yet  you  will  go  on 
speaking! — That  is  foolish." 

"Do  not  jest,  but  listen,"  he  said  miserably. 
"You  see  we  all  thought — 

But  a  slim  finger  was  laid  across  his  lips 
and  another  was  shaken  laughingly  before  his 
face.  Just  so  had  she  treated  him  in  the 
childish  days  at  Cotslea. 

"Now  look  here,  sir,  'tis  quite  enough  to  have 
this  affair  make  of  you  and  father  a  couple  of 
solemn-faced  mourners,  without  converting 
every  face  in  the  house  to  stone.  I  have  no 
mind  to  go  weeping  my  eyes  out,  so  I'll  hear 
none  of  it." 

"But  Judith,  it  touches  your  life  as  nearly 
as  it  does  mine— you  must— 

"Hush  !"  and  the  finger  pressed  hard  upon 
his  mouth,  "did  I  not  say  that  I  would  hear  none 
of  it  ?  You  said  just  now  '  We  all  thought ;'  well, 
if  we  all  thought,  then  is  no  one  in  particular 
to  blame;  and  whatever  it  was  we  thought 
should  have  been  right ;  and  if  it  turned  out 
not  so  fortunate,  why,  'tis  matter  past  mend 
ing,  and  there's  no  use  discussing  it.  Is  not 
that  excellent  reasoning  for  you  ?" 

He  took  her  hand  forcibly  from  his  mouth. 


"Thread  of  Love,  Or  Thread  of  Sin?'*     217 

"But  you  do  not  understand.  This  matter 
may  change  the  whole  course  of  your  life;  you 
must  let  me  tell  you." 

"And  begin  at  once  to  cry  my  eyes  out? 
Fie  upon  you,  for  wishing  to  sadden  me,  and 
that,  too,  on  the — eve  of  my  wedding." 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  voluntarily 
mentioned  her  marriage  to  him,  and  as  she  did 
so  a  wave  of  exquisite  colour  crept  over  her  face 
and  her  eyes  were  full  of  a  shyness  he  had 
never  before  seen  in  them.  God,  how  she 
tempted  him  !  But  he  nerved  himself  to  one 
more  effort. 

"God  knows  I  had  rather  die  than  throw  a 
shadow  on  your  heart,"  he  groaned.  "It  is 
I  who  will  be  the  loser — thank  heaven  it  is  I 
who  will  have  the  suffering;  but  it  is  your  un 
questioned  right  to  know  this  matter  and— 

"Well,  I  will  yield  my  right,"  she  said, 
smiling,  and  slipped  her  hand  into  his.  "The 
only  right  I  ask  is  to  make  you  and  father 
happy." 

"Listen,"  he  said  almost  sternly,  trying  to 
break  into  his  subject.  "This  morning  when 
I  reached  the  settlement  I  found- 
But  she  thrust  her  fingers  into  her  ears  and 
hummed  a  little  tune. 

"Judy,  Judy!"  he  cried  in  despair,  "you  do 


218  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

not  understand ;  this  is  not  a  question  of  money ; 

1 4-    i  r« 

It   io 

"Something  equally  as  disagreeable,  and  I 
do  not  wish  to  hear  a  syllable  of  it— not  a 
syllable." 

He  hesitated;  underlying  the  playfulness  of 
her  manner  was  a  serious  determination  which 
he  could  not  understand.  She  was  so  evidently 
in  earnest  that  he  felt  his  task  growing  harder ; 
yet  he  began  again,  only  to  be  interrupted. 

"Laurie,"  and  his  heart  leaped — it  was  so 
seldom  she  called  him  by  this  old  pet  name  of 
his  boyhood — "Laurie,  in  your  heart  do  you 
wish  to  tell  me  this  matter  ?" 

"No;  but  my  wishes  must  not  count." 

"Well,  I  have  quite  as  little  inclination  to 
listen  as  you  to  speak.  Will  you  not  let  me  be 
happy  my  own  way?"  She  moved  a  little 
nearer  him  on  the  bench,  an  almost  imper 
ceptibly  small  distance,  but  he  realized  it, 
and  his  blood  throbbed  with  a  sudden  fierce 
joy.  "Let  us  dismiss  the  tiresome  subject  al 
together,  and  talk  instead  of  something  pleas 
ant — of — of  what  is  to  happen  two  days  hence. 
You  have  not  yet  told  me  what  his  Reverence 
said." 

Again  an  allusion  to  her  wedding,  and  again 
a  wave  of  exquisite  colour  over  cheek  and 


"Thread  of  Love,  Or  Thread  of  Sin?"     219 

brow,  and  that  tremulous  falling  of  the  white 
lids.     Was    he    to    renounce    this    new-found 
sweetness  ?     And  then  in  a  moment  he  felt  his 
resolution  die  away  and  the  hard-won  victory 
over  himself  become  of  none  effect.     He  knew 
that  she  had  refused  to  hear  his  tidings  through 
ignorance  of  their  nature,  and  that  to  accept 
her  refusal  was  on  his  part  but   a  cowardly 
subterfuge    to    his    conscience.     But    she    had 
refused,  had  told  him  plainly  that  she  would 
none   of   his   secret ;   and   he   knew   now   that 
he    would    never  tell   her.      Away  with   you, 
resolution;  be  silent,  conscience;  for  in  the  face 
of    such    unwonted    demonstration    from    her, 
love  alone  swayed  him ;  and  lifting  her  hands 
until  a  pink  palm  touched  either  of  his  haggard 
cheeks,  he  poured  out  his  love  in  a  torrent  of 
impassioned  words.     The  tense  strain  upon  his 
heart  gave  way;  it  was  as  though  he  had  been 
dead  and  come  to  life  again,  so   eager  was  he 
in  his  joy  of  possessing  her.     He  covered  her 
hands  with  kisses,   pushing  back  her  sleeves 
to  reach  the  white  wrists;  and  the  most  ex 
travagant    phrases    his   tongue    could   fashion 
seemed   but    tamely   to    convey    his    feelings. 
And  she  listened,  shrinking  a  little  before  his 
vehemence,  but  glad  to  see  the  pallor  leave  his 
face ;  now  and  then  she  drew  away  her  hands, 


220  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

only  to  have  them  recaptured.  All  memory 
of  his  past  agony,  all  fears  for  the  future  were 
cast  aside  in  the  ecstatic  thought  that  he  had 
not  lost  her,  that  she  was  yet  to  belong  to  him. 
And  so  it  was  he  entered  the  tempter's  nets. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  SECOND  LETTER  IN  THE  PACKET. 

"The  blood  will  follow  where  the  knife  is  driven." 

— YOUNG. 

TT  rHILE  Laurence  gave  himself  up  to  the 
joy  that  followed  his  long  hour  of 
mental  struggle  and  torture,  another  scene  was 
transpiring  under  the  tree  beside  the  wharf 
where  the  sailor  had  left  him  in  the  morning. 

Tony  Foster  sat  on  a  gnarled  root  and 
smoked  lazily.  The  stir  of  the  morning  had 
quieted  down ;  the  townspeople  had  resumed 
their  duties,  and  the  sailors  had  either  returned 
to  their  ship  or  were  regaling  themselves  at 
Sutley's  or  the  other  public  houses.  Lissa 
had  taken  her  sewing  from  the  warehouse  in  a 
pout  because  Tony  wrould  not  let  her  have  the 
string  of  coral  beads  the  youn  ;  sailing  master 
had  offered  her;  business  for  the  day  seemed 
over,  and  Tony,  still  cross  from  the  quarrel 
with  Lissa,  had  taken  his  pipe  out  in  front 
of  his  door.  But  he  was  tired  of  his  own 
thoughts  and  hailed  with  satisfaction  the  ap- 

221 


222  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

pearance  of  Amos  and  Ann  Randal  on  the 
shady  road  leading  from  the  upper  planta 
tions.  Amos  went  on  to  the  wharf  where  his 
flat  boat  was  unloading  some  produce,  but 
the  girl  drew  her  rein  in  the  shade  close  to 
Tony.  He  waved  his  hand  deprecatingly : 

"Nay,  there  have  been  no  more  ships  in 
since  this  morning,  so  there  is  not  another  letter 
for  you." 

She  leaned  out  of  her  saddle  with  the  gracious 
smile  that  held  her  admirers  and  won  for  her 
that  reputation  for  coquetry:  "I  have  not 
come  for  another  letter;  the  one  you  gave  me 
this  morning  will  suffice  for  a  long  time.  I 
merely  stopped  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  your 
society  \vhile  Amos  attends  to  some  business. 
I  would  be  of  no  use  to  him,  seeing  that  women 
have  no  head  for  affairs." 

"  Tis  a  fact  as  well  known  as  that  flies  buzz 
in  an  empty  sugar  barrel,"  he  said  dryly. 

Ann  laughed:  "How  you  hate  the  petti- 
coated  part  of  the  world,  Tony  !  But  come 
now,  put  on  your  best  manners  and  enter 
tain  me  a  bit.  What  new  gossip  are  you 
smoking  there  in  your  pipe  ?" 

"Nothing  new;  only  the  stale  talk  that 
Laurence  hath  jilted  you  to  marry  his  pretty 


The  Second  Letter  In  the  Packet          223 

cousin,"  replied  Tony  calmly,  looking  mean 
while  straight  into  the  black  eyes  above  him. 

"So  your  cronies  cannot  get  away  from  that 
subject  ?  Well,  and  do  I  look  properly  heart 
broken  and  forlorn?" 

"No,  for  you  have  not  loved  him  this  whole 
year." 

"Not  loved  him  for  a  whole  year?" 

"No." 

"You  seem  to  have  very  circumstantial 
knowledge  of  the  state  of  my  affections." 

"I  think  I  have.  Sometimes  when  a  man 
has  bodily  limitations  such  as  mine,  he  has 
keener  mental  perceptions — though,  to  be  sure, 
it  does  not  take  much  insight  to  read  so  shallow 
a  page  as  a  woman's  mind.  I  told  you  a  year 
ago  that  although  you  were  Judith  Gary's 
rival,  it  was  not  for  Laurence  Falkner's  love." 

"Yes,  I  remember  your  ridiculous  guesses 
and  impertinent  surmises  at  that  time,"  the 
girl  laughed;  "but  you  see  I  did  not  pine  away 
nor  lose  my  reason,  nor  behave  myself  in  any 
unusual  and  unseemly  manner  when  the  news 
came  that  Arthur  Seton  was  killed." 

"Yes,"  said  Tony,  blowing  the  smoke  above 
his  head  in  undulating  waves  of  blue;  "I  see, 
but  that  is  no  sign  that  your  heart  did  not 
ache.  A  woman  has  the  devil's  own  deceit  in 


224  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

hiding  wounds  like  that.  You  are  queer 
creatures,  Ann  Randal,  all  of  you ;  you  cry  your 
eyes  red  over  a  brier  scratch,  and  laugh  when 
your  hearts  are  crushed  to  a  pulp." 

"It  were  a  more  grievous  thing  to  have  one's 
body  mutilated  than  one's  affection,  since 
the  former  would  be  a  visible  personal  dis 
figurement  ;  and  that—  '  she  lifted  her  hand 
with  a  wry  grimace. 

"Spoken  with  the  vanity  which  is  a  woman's 
besetting  sin.  Tis  her  pride  in  her  pretty  eyes 
and  white  skin  and  red  lips  that  makes  a 
woman  careless  and  cruel  and  heartless." 

"Tony,  I  believe  what  Judith  Gary  said  of 
you  is  a  truth." 

"And  what  was  that?" 

"Why,  that  some  woman  had  treated  you 
with  monstrous  severity  to  make  you  think  all 
women  false." 

"Judith  Gary's  good  looks  surpass  her  powers 
of  discretion;  and  that  is  very  fortunate  for 
her,"  he  replied,  squinting  up  his  eyes  as  if  the 
smoke  hurt  them. 

"Fortunate  for  her  to  be  pretty  rather  than 
discerning?  Fie,  Tony!" 

"Yes,  for  had  matters  been  reversed  she 
would  not  have  had  two  of  the  first  gallants  of 
the  country  wanting  to  marry  her.  Pretty 


The  Second  Letter  In  the  Packet  225 

women  are  generally  desired  at  marrying  time ; 
but  a  man  does  not  want  a  wife  who  is  too  good 
at  guessing — some  things  in  his  life  are  better 
for  being  left  always  riddles." 

"Well,  even  a  pretty  woman  is  able  to  guess 
that  you  are  not  in  a  very  amiable  mood  to-day, 
and  since  you  have  no  news  wherewith  to 
entertain  me,  I  may  as  well  be  going; Amos 
will  overtake  me  presently." 

She  gathered  up  her  rein,  but  again  he 
waved  his  hand  deprecatingly :  "There  is  no 
hurry ;  you  can  go  home  when  you  can  go  no 
where  else.  Why  is  it  you  have  come  twice  to 
the  settlement  to-day?" 

"Amos  had  some  business,  and  I  merely  rode 
with  him  for  company." 

'  'Very  sisterly  of  you  to  be  sure.  By  the  way, 
had  you  stayed  a  little  longer  this  morning 
you  might  have  played  the  Good  Samaritan 
to  Laurence  Falkner,  and  won,  perchance,  no 
end  of  gratitude  from  him  and  Judith,  and 
at  the  same  time  given  the  gossips  food  for 
fresh  talk." 

The  bridle  fell  again  instantly  upon  the 
horse's  neck.  "The  Good  Samaritan  to  Laurence 
— what  can  you  mean,  Tony?" 

"Oh-ho !  you  are  interested  in  your  lost 
lover,  are  you?  Well,  he  had  some  sort  of  a 


226  The  Wooing  of  Jiidith 

fit  here  on  the  wharf  an  hour  after  you  left. 
You  would  have  made  a  fine  picture  for  the 
news  tattlers,  bending  over  the  unconscious 
man  who  had  jilted  you;  'tis  a  pity  you  were 
in  such  a  hurry." 

But  she  took  no  heed  of  his  gibe.  "What 
think  you,  was  the  matter  ?" 

"Supreme  joy  over  his  approaching  marriage 
with  his  beautiful  cousin,  perhaps ;  good  fortune 
sometimes  takes  away  a  man's  breath,  and  you 
know  better  than  any  one  else  what  an  escape 
he  made  in  the  choice  of  his  bride,"  Tony 
answered,  watching  to  see  his  second  thrust 
take  effect. 

Tis  no  use  trying  to  be  too  funny,  Tony. 
That  was  not  the  cause  of  his  fit,  since  it  is 
the  suddenness  of  joy  that  stuns  a  man,  not 
something  long  expected.  Was  he  ill  when 
he  came  to  the  settlement  ?  What  was  his 
business?" 

"His  business  was  to  speak  with  his  Rever 
ence  about  the  wedding.  After  that  he  talked 
with  some  of  the  ship's  people." 

The  girl  leaned  low  from  her  saddle.  "Did 
he — did  he  seem  to  hear  anything  from  them 
that  upset  him?" 

"Nothing,  for  when  I  came  after  him  to  the 


227 

wharf  to  give  him  a  letter,  he  was  as  gay  as  a 
sparrow  in  spring-time." 

"A—     -  Did  you  say  he  had — a  letter?" 

"Yes,  in  the  same  packet  as  yours.  And 
now  I  come  to  think  of  it  the  writing  on  them 
was  not  unlike." 

She  straightened  up,  shaking  out  her  skirt 
with  deliberate  touches:  "Scarcely,"  she  said, 
with  a  careless  laugh,  "we  have  no  mutual 
correspondents.  But  what  think  you,  Tony, 
did  the  letter  have  anything  to  do  with  his 
fainting?" 

He  drew  several  times  at  his  black  pipe 
before  answering,  for  her  emotion  had  not 
escaped  him,  and  he  was  studying  her  curiously. 
She  had  always  puzzled  him,  with  her  flashing 
changes  of  manner,  and  nothing  pleased  him 
better  than  to  draw  the  fire  of  her  retort. 

"I  am  thinking,  Mistress  Ann,"  he  said  at 
last,  "that  it  is  you  who  might  tell  me  some 
news  to-day,  were  you  minded  to  let  go  your 
thoughts.  Your  own  letter,  for  instance;  did 
it  contain  anything  of  a  disturbing  nature?" 

"Did  I  swoon  upon  your  warehouse  steps 
on  reading  it?" 

"No,  but  I  remember  now  you  had  a  strange 
look  on  your  face,  and  that  Amos  called  you 
twice  before  you  answered." 


228  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

After  a  moment  of  hesitation  she  bent  down 
again  with  a  charmingly  confidential  air. 
"Well,  Tony,  just  between  us  two — not  to  go 
any  further — there  was  something  about  'un 
dying  love'  in  the  letter;  and  I  suppose  I  must 
have  been  wondering  if  it  were  really  true,  or 
whether  I  was  to  be  jilted  again,  as  you  say 
Laurence  jilted  me.  Was  not  that  enough 
to  make  a  girl  absent-minded?"  She  laughed, 
giving  him  a  baffling  glance.  But  a  suspicion 
had  come  to  him  that  here  was  a  mystery 
worth  the  solving.  Two  letters  had  come  in 
that  packet;  on  reading  one  a  girl  had  lost 
her  colour;  on  reading  the  other  a  man  had 
fainted.  Was  there  any  connection  between 
them  ?  He  looked  again  at  Ann,  but  every 
trace  of  emotion  had  vanished;  she  was  care 
fully  flicking  a  piece  of  thistledown  from  her 
skirt,  and  her  black  eyes  were  inscrutable 
with  a  glinting  laughter.  Bah  !  there  was  no 
mystery  after  all;  she  had  been  but  playing 
upon  his  curiosity,  making  sport  of  his  cred 
ulity;  nothing  ever  pleased  her  so  well  as  to 
tease  him.  In  a  moment  he  was  angry  with 
her  for  her  mockery  and  with  himself  for  being 
so  played  upon;  and  without  another  word 
he  pulled  his  hat  over  his  eyes  and  settled  him- 


229 

self  as  if  for  a  nap.     Ann  saw,   and  laughed 
triumphantly. 

"Truly,  Tony,  'tis  hard  to  say  whether  you 
are  worse  favoured  in  your  appearance  or  your 
manners.  There  is  not  another  man  in  all  the 
tidewater  country  would  even  pretend  to  doze 
in  my  presence." 

"Then  am  I  the  only  man  in  Virginia  who 
dares  follow  the  wish  of  his  heart." 

"You  poor,  cross-cut  fellow!"  she  laughed. 
"But,  there;  I  must  be  going,  for  if  I  am  seen 
much  more  in  your  company,  people  will  be 
saying  that  I  have  fallen  in  love  with  you; 
mayhap  even,  by  and  by,  that — like  Laurence 
—you  had  jilted  me  for — well,  let  us  say  for 
Lissa  Sutley." 

She  shot  him  a  meaning  look  out  of  her  black 
eyes,  laughed  provokingly,  and  cantered  away. 
He  looked  after  her  from  between  his  half-shut 
lids:  '"You  mocking  devil!  I'd  give  my 
interest  in  Paradise  for  the  chance  to  jilt  you 
for  Lissa. — That  teasing  temper  of  yours  needs 
breaking." 

Meantime  the  girl,  riding  with  such  superb 
horsemanship  down  the  road  under  the  drooping 
boughs,  had  ceased  to  laugh ;  a  slow  whiteness 
gathered  on  her  face,  and  in  her  eyes  was  the 
fierce  pain,  the  faltering  weariness  as  of  some 
dumb  creature  hunted  to  its  lair. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
"SPEAK  NOW,  OR  FOREVER  HOLD  YOUR  PEACE." 

"  And  still,  with  face  like  pallid  mask, 
The  silent  Weaver  plies  his  task; 
Two  threads  from  out  his  shuttle  run, 
One  black  with  night,  one  gold  with  sun." 

-  S.  B.  K. 

'TpHE  following  morning  found  the  same 
-•-  shadow  on  Ann's  face,  and  her  eyes 
looked  as  though  they  had  spent  the  night 
staring  at  the  darkness,  rather  than  closed 
in  slumber.  She  came  to  the  breakfast  table 
in  her  habit. 

"I  go  again  to  the  wharf  this  morning;  if 
you  will  wrait  an  hour  I  will  leave  you  at  River- 
mead,"  Amos  said.  But  she  shook  her  head; 
by  that  time  the  sun  would  be  too  warm,  and 
she  must  see  Judith  about  the  lace  on  her  gown ; 
the  groom  could  follow  her  as  usual,  so  she 
mounted  and  rode  away.  When  she  turned 
into  the  Rivermead  avenue  she  checked  the 
mad  pace  at  which  she  had  been  riding  and 
went  slowly,  as  though  there  was  something 
at  the  end  of  the  avenue  she  dreaded  to  meet; 
230 


"Speak  Now,  or  Forever  Hold  Your  Peace"  231 

her  face  was  pale  and  hard,  and  when  Laurence 
met  her  at  the  steps  he  found  in  her  eyes 
neither  the  mocking  satire  nor  the  careless 
laughter  that  usually  lurked  there,  but  instead 
an  expectant  questioning  that  set  his  nerves 
on  edge. 

He  was  living  these  last  hours  before  his 
marriage  in  a  fever  of  suppressed  excitement 
and  agony  of  groundless  dread  lest  the  knowl 
edge  of  the  letter  come  to  Judith  through  some 
other  channel.  How  this  could  be  he  did  not 
stop  to  consider,  but  he  lost  his  colour  if  a 
servant  brought  in  a  note  or  if  there  was  a 
summons  at  the  door.  This  fear  was  upon 
him  when  he  lifted  Ann  to  the  ground ;  and  after 
she  and  Judith  had  gone  up  stairs  he  paced 
the  hall  in  a  nervous  apprehension  that  un 
manned  him.  Seton  having  lived  in  Ann's 
house,  the  two  were  closely  associated  in  his 
mind. 

"If  you  keep  this  up  you  will  go  to  the  luna 
tic's  prison  rather  than  to  your  bridal,"  Sir 
Thomas  said  angrily,  as  he  passed  him  in  his 
restless  pacing.  "The  secret  is  ours  and  will 
remain  thus,  for  the  dead  tell  no  new  tales. 
You  are  as  shaky  as  a  woman ;  go  get  a  glass  of 
wine  for  your  nerves." 

The  sound  of  Ann's  laughter  on  the  stair, 


232  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

after  an  interminable  half-hour,  had  in  it  the 
resonance  of  jubilee  bells. 

"You  are  like  a  ghost,  Laurence;  I  believe 
you  are  more  scared  than  Judith,"  she  said 
teasingly.  "Well,  Tony  is  prophesying  good 
behaviour  on  the  part  of  the  weather,  and  you 
know  the  sunshine  is  a  good  omen  for  a  wed 
ding."  He  took  her  hand  with  some  graceful 
compliment  as  to  its  being  always  sunshine 
where  she  was.  "Prettily  said,"  she  laughed. 
"And  to  think  that  this  time  to-morrow  your 
compliments  will  have  no  more  value  than 
his  Excellency's  or  Sir  Thomas's  !  'Twill  be 
difficult  at  first  to  think  of  you  as  a  married 
man." 

She  waved  her  hand  and  went  away  at  a 
quick  gallop;  and  Laurence  turned  back  to 
Judith  with  a  clear  brow.  "A  married  man  to 
morrow,"  he  said  in  her  ear  as  they  went  up 
the  steps. 

Down  the  avenue  Ann  threw  back  her  head 
and  filled  her  lungs  with  the  ecstatic  morning 
air;  the  hunted  look  that  Tony  had  seen  yes 
terday  was  gone,  and  in  its  stead  was  a  radiant 
content.  It  was  as  though  she  had  come  out 
of  a  charnel-house  into  the  free,  fresh  air  of  the 
daylight.  At  a  shady  spot  on  the  road  she  sent 
the  groom  on  and,  dismounting,  sat  down  on  the 


"  Speak  Now,  or  Forever  Hold  Your  Peace"  233 

turf  under  a  thick-leafed  elm  and  drew  a  letter 
from  her  pocket.  Slowly  she  read  it ;  pausing 
to  consider  it,  re-reading  a  sentence  here  and 
there.  When  the  end  was  reached  she  sat  a 
long  while  looking  up  at  the  discs  of  blue  sky 
through  the  foliage,  and  in  her  eyes  and  on 
her  lips  was  a  triumphant  smile,  as  if  she  had 
won  that  which  she  had  coveted.  After  a 
while  she  picked  up  her  gloves,  whistled  to  her 
horse  and  went  on  her  way;  but  before  she  had 
covered  half  a  mile  the  song  she  sang  died 
suddenly;  she  searched  in  her  pocket,  at  her 
belt,  in  her  glove ;  the  letter  she  had  read  under 
the  tree  was  gone.  Instantly  she  turned  back, 
searching  the  road  with  her  eyes  as  she  went; 
but  the  letter  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  As  she 
reached  the  tree  under  which  she  had  rested,  a 
figure  rose  slowly  from  the  green  recess  of  the 
boughs.  It  was  Lissa  Sutley,  and  Ann  saw 
her  crush  something  white  in  the  palm  of  her 
hand. 

"Give  me  that  letter,"  Ann  said  haughtily, 
without  preliminary  greeting.  But  the  other 
eyes,  as  black  and  scornful  as  her  own,  looked 
back  at  her  defiantly.  "I  saw  it  in  your  hand; 
give  it  to  me  at  once." 

"And  why  should  I  ?" 


234  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"Because  it  is  mine."  She  stretched  her' 
hand  out  imperiously. 

All  of  Lissa's  hatred  of  this  woman  of  high 
social  degree  flamed  into  white  heat ;  perhaps 
here  was  a  way  to  pay  her  back  some  of  her 
own  torture.  She  folded  her  arms.  "There 
is  no  name  on  the  letter,  so  I  am  not  sure  it  is 
yours.  What  I  found  I  shall  keep." 

Ann  bent  down  and  confronted  her.  So 
great  was  her  fury,  so  imminent  the  peril  that 
menaced  her  that  she  lifted  her  whip  with  a 
swishing  sound;  but  the  look  in  Lissa's  eyes 
stayed  her  hand.  She  caught  the  warning  in 
time. 

"Listen,  Lissa;  the  letter  is  mine;  I  dropped 
it  here  a  while  ago.  I  beg  you  to  give  it  to  me." 

"Did  Larry  Herrick  write  it?" 

"No.     I  swear  it." 

Lissa  looked  into  her  eyes  and  laughed  bit 
terly  :  "  I  do  not  believe  you . " ' 

The  colour  flamed  to  Ann's  face.  "I  never 
liked  you,  Lissa  Sutley,  but  I  would  scorn  to 
lie  to  you." 

"You  did  not  scorn  to  take  my  lover  from 
me  with  your  fine-lady  ways.  Here,  under 
this  very  tree,  when  I  came  out  of  the  path 
yonder  through  the  reeds,  he  gave  you  my 


"Speak  Now,  or  Forever  Hold  Your  Peace" 23$ 

flower,  and  you  mocked  me;  and  I  have  hated 
you  ever  since." 

"I  did  not  ask  him  for  your  lily." 

"No,  but  you  took  it,  and  laughed." 

"The  whole  settlement  laughed  that  you 
should  think  he  meant  to  marry  you." 

The  crimson  burnt  duskily  under  the  olive 
skin.  Tony  had  said  the  same  thing,  but  the 
words  had  a  different  sound  from  the  red  lips 
above  her.  She  opened  her  clinched  hand  for 
a  moment  and  displayed  the  letter:  "I  will 
carry  it  to  Mistress  Judith,  and  if  she  says  'tis 
yours,  and  not  from  Larry,  you  may  have  it." 

Every  vestige  of  colour  left  Ann's  face;  the 
charnel  house  she  had  escaped  seemed  once 
more  gaping  to  entomb  her,  but  presently 
she  managed  to  say  lightly:  "Judith  is  too 
occupied  with  her  wedding  to  give  heed  to 
outside  matters." 

'Twill  take  her  but  a  minute,"  Lissa  said, 
turning  to  walk  away.  But  Ann  urged  her 
horse  forward  and  barred  her  passage  in  the 
narrow  road. 

"Listen  to  reason,  Lissa.  The  letter  is  mine; 
there  is  nothing  I  will  not  give  you  for  it — money, 
this  jeweled  ring." 

Lissa  laughed  scornfully:  "There  is  nothing 
I  want  from  you." 


236  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

She  darted  past  the  horse  and  ran  down  the 
road;  but  again  Ann  overtook  and  stayed  her. 
The  Rivermead  avenue  was  but  ten  paces 
away;  Judith  might  even  be  in  the  boat-house. 
She  must  try  another  plea. 

"Lissa,  stop  a  moment  and  think.  Is  there 
no  promise  I  might  make  you? — nothing  you 
have  to  ask  concerning  Larry  ?  I  will  do  any 
thing  you  wish ;  never  speak  to  him,  forbid  him 
the  house— 

Her  voice  was  seductive^  sweet,  and  the 
shot  went  home.  Lissa  paused,  irresolute. 
Here  perchance  was  an  opportunity  to  thwart 
her  false  lover.  Ann  moved  very  close  to  her, 
leaning  out  of  her  saddle. 

"There  is  surely  something  you  might  ask 
me." 

Lissa's  eyes  wrent  wandering  among  the 
grasses  at  her  feet.  It  would  be  sweet  to  know 
she  had  balked  him  of  his  game.  Her  fingers 
lost  their  grip,  so  that  she  held  the  letter  but 
lightly  while  her  thoughts  went  over  Larry's 
punishment.  Ann  bent  yet  nearer,  her  own 
hand  creeping  toward  the  other's. 

"Something  you  might  ask  me — some  way 
in  which  I  might  aid  you." 

Then  suddenly  her  hand  reached  Lissa's  and 
snatched  the  letter,  while  with  the  other  hand 


"Speak  Now,  or  Forever  Hold  Your  Peace"  237 

she  reined  her  horse  sharply  back.  With  an 
angry  cry  Lissa  would  have  held  her  skirt  and 
dragged  her  to  the  ground,  but  the  rearing  horse 
prevented,  for  under  the  tight  rein  he  was 
striking  out  dangerously  with  his  shod  hoofs. 
Then  Ann,  mistress  of  the  animal,  went  by  her 
like  an  arrow;  beyond,  in  the  open  sun-track 
of  the  road,  she  turned  and  laughed  derisively : 

"What  is  mine,  I  will  keep.  Larry  Herrick 
writes  sweet  letters,"  she  called  over  shoulder, 
putting  this  one  to  her  lips,  and  so  was  gone. 
But  beyond  the  turn  of  the  road  she  slackened 
speed : 

"Merciful  heaven,  what  an  escape !"  she 
cried,  bowed  to  the  pommel  of  her  saddle  with 
a  sudden  nervous  sobbing. 

After  Ann's  visit  a  new  turn  came  to 
Laurence's  anxiety,  and  he  sent  both  morning 
and  afternoon  to  the  settlement  to  assure  him 
self  that  no  fresh  tidings  had  come  over  the 
water,  no  new  ship  was  in  port.  But  his  self- 
torture  was  useless,  for  the  returning  messenger 
brought  nothing  of  a  disturbing  nature.  And 
at  last,  like  a  turquoise  out  of  a  dark  mine, 
there  broke  from  the  shell  of  the  dead  May 
the  blue  June  day  that  was  to  see  his  wedding. 

"It  is  my  last  good  night  to  you,"  he  had 
whispered  to  Judith  the  night  before,  as  he  put 


238  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

her  candlestick  in  her  hand,  thinking  of  how 
hereafter  there  would  be  no  parting  here  beside 
the  banister,  but  that  they  would  go  together 
up  the  wide  stair;  and  thankful,  in  a  dumb, 
impassioned  way  that  he  had  not  jeopardized 
his  happiness. 

"  Laurie, "  she  said  softly,  as  he  still  held  her 
hand,  "you  will  be  kind  to  me,  I  know  that; 
but  there  is  one  thing  I  wish  you  to  promise  me. 
Let  me  share  your  whole  life.  Always  my 
father  has  made  of  me  a  child,  telling  me  only 
pleasant  and  happy  things,  trusting  me  with 
nothing  serious  or  troublesome.  I  do  not  wrish 
that  to  be  my  life  with  you.  I  want  your  whole 
confidence;  your  annoyances  and  sorrows  as 
well  as  your  pleasures — do  not  have  any  secrets 
from  me.  Will  you  promise  that?" 

His  conscience,  pricked  from  its  torpor, 
stung  him  sharply.  Make  her  this  promise 
with  that  torturing  barrier  already  between 
them?  The  words  would  not  come.  Then 
came  a  last  wish  to  tell  her  all  and  trust  to  her 
mercy  for  forgiveness ;  the  wedding  was  so  near 
she  could  not  break  with  him,  could  not  resist 
his  plea.  With  a  swift  determination  he  lifted 
his  head. 

"Judith,  I  will  begin  now,  and  tell  you  that 
which " 


"Speak  Now,  or  Forever  Hold  Your  Peace"  239 

But  at  that  moment  Sir  Thomas's  voice 
called  out  sharply:  "If  so  you  would  have 
any  roses  for  your  bridal,  go  to  bed,  Judith 
child.  Late  hours  make  pale  maids. " 

"You  promise?"  Judith  whispered  over  the 
rail. 

"I  promise,"  he  answered,  and  hid  his  eyes 
against  her  hand  as  he  spoke.  And  she  went 
away,  waving  him  a  last  farewell  from  the 
landing  above. 

There  was  no  dishonour  in  his  promise,  he 
argued  with  himself  as  he  lay  watching  the 
stars  pale  slowly  before  the  approaching  dawn. 
It  did  not  hark  back  to  the  past,  but  bore  on 
things  of  the  future.  From  to-morrow  she 
should  know  his  life,  his  hopes  and  plans.  She 
could  not  mean  for  him  to  tell  to  her  this  gnaw 
ing  thing  that  had  come  in  the  past,  for  she  had 
refused  to  listen  to  it.  Thus  it  was  he  solaced 
his  conscience  while  he  watched  the  great 
morning  star  flame  like  a  golden  torch  above 
the  horizon  and  knew  that  his  wedding  day  had 
come. 

All  the  early  morning  hours  Judith  sat  before 
her  window  watching  the  wide  sky,  the  blowing 
leaves,  the  flitting  birds,  yet  seeing  none  of 
them;  quiet,  silent,  lost  in  a  reverie  of  which 
not  even  the  recording  angel  may  take  cogni- 


240  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

zance.  She  was  taking  leave  of  her  girlhood, 
looking  timidly  into  the  face  of  the  wifehood 
before  her.  Few  hours  in  a  woman's  life  are  so 
sacred  or  so  long  remembered. 

Below,  the  house  was  filled  with  a  bevy  of 
young  friends  whose  deft  hands  were  turning 
the  rooms  into  bowers  of  fragrant  bloom. 

"Nay,  Tony,  take  that  jessamine  away," 
cried  Ann  Randal,  climbing  to  a  chair  with  a 
garland  of  milk-white  roses;  "jessamine  means 
jealousy  and  all  the  poison  it  carries.  "Pis 
here  the  bride  will  stand,  and  I  mean  to  set 
the  fates  a  good  example  and  put  only  roses 
near  her." 

"  I'd  as  soon  have  poison  jessamine  as  hidden 
rOSe  thorns,"  said  Tony. 

"It  is  indeed  a  shame  to  be  scratched  by 
something  we  think  so  innocent  and  beautiful. 
Roses  are  deceitful." 

"  'Tis  the  same  way  with  women;  the  softest- 
seeming  ones  have  the  sharpest  thorns,  once 
they  are  plucked." 

"Well,  Tony,  your  face  is  safe  from  scratch 
ing  such  as  they  give  ! ' ' 

Long  before  the  noon  hour  the  stable-yard 
was  filled  with  horses  and  vehicles  and  the 
river  shore  was  lined  with  boats,  and  there  was 
a  babel  of  voices  in  the  halls  and  parlours. 


"Speak  Now,  or  Forever  Hold  Your  Peace"  241 

"So  Laurence  Falkner  can  woo  a  maid  as 
well  as  raise  the  finest  tobacco  in  Virginia," 
Governor  Berkeley  said  as,  snuff-box  in  hand, 
he  made  the  rounds  of  the  guests.  "  Take  heart 
o'  grace,  Amos,  lad,"  he  whispered  to  that 
gentleman;  "I'll  warrant  you  there  are  other 
girls  in  the  Colony  far  better  housekeepers 
than  this  dainty  Cavalier  maid." 

But  Amos,  after  the  fashion  of  losing  lovers, 
refused  to  be  so  comforted,  and  when  Sir 
Thomas  appeared  on  the  stair  with  Judith  he 
slipped  out  of  the  hall,  not  to  witness  her 
marriage. 

"Remember,"  Sir  Thomas  said  to  Judith,  as 
he  kissed  her  in  her  room,  "whatever  of  good 
or  ill  the  future  may  hold,  that  I  wanted  this 
marriage;  that  it  comforted  me  for  Thomas's 
loss  and  sweetened  my  exile."  Then  he  led 
her  down  to  where  Laurence  waited  under  the 
rose  garlands. 

"If  any  man  can  show  just  cause  why  this 
man  and  this  woman  may  not  be  joined  to 
gether  in  the  holy  bonds  of  matrimony,  let  him 
speak  now,  or  else  forever  hereafter  hold  his 
peace. " 

To  the  spectators  the  words  were  but  an 
empty  form  and  the  perfunctory  pause  follow 
ing  them  no  longer  than  usual  on  such  occa- 


242  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

sions;  but  to  Laurence  it  seemed  interminable, 
and  he  caught  himself  listening  for  an  answer, 
dreading  the  sound  of  an  accusing  human  voice, 
or  perchance  some  supernatural  cry  that  would 
tell  Judith  the  wrong  they  were  doing  her. 
And  while  he  stood  thus,  waiting,  as  it  were, 
for  his  doom,  Sir  Thomas,  impelled  by  some 
subtle  fascination,  felt  his  eyes  drawn  irresisti 
bly  to  Ann  Randal,  who  stood  just  opposite 
him.  She  was  deadly  pale,  her  hand  gripped 
something  close  over  her  heart,  and  her  eyes 
had  in  them  a  look  which  seemed  to  challenge 
him  to  speak.  For  that  one  moment  of  im 
pressive  pause  they  gazed  fixedly  at  each  other, 
and  each  in  a  measure  read  the  other's  thoughts. 
An  angry  resentment  flashed  in  the  old  man's 
eyes;  he  leaned  forward — but  the  minister  was 
speaking,  Laurence  had  once  more  concen 
trated  his  thoughts  on  the  words,  and  the 
ordeal  was  over.  The  old  man  straightened 
himself  with  a  deep-drawn  breath  of  relief, 
Ann  turned  her  face  toward  Judith,  and  no 
one  in  that  company,  except  Tony  Foster,  had 
guessed  that  the  dim  spectre  of  a  tragedy  had 
hovered  for  a  moment  over  the  white-petalled 
blossoms  of  the  bridal  garlands. 

Very  solemn  and  tender  the  vows  sounded, 
spoken  in  the  presence  of  that  brilliant  company, 


"Speak  Now,  or  Forever  Hold  Your  Peace"   243 

with  the  June  sunshine  falling  in  white  bands 
through  the  windows  and  the*  June-time  roses 
swinging  the  incense  of  the  year  in  their  multi- 
petalled  censers.  Then  came  the  blessing  above 
the  bowed  heads;  and  at  last  Laurence,  with 
every  doubt  and  fear  and  self-reproach  swept 
away  before  the  leaping  gladness  that  filled 
him,  faced  his  friends  with  his  wife's  hand  on 
his  arm. 

During  the  festivities,  which  lasted  far  into 
the  night,  a  wave  of  merriment  always  followed 
in  Ann  Randal's  wake.  She  wras  full  of  gaiety 
and  the  pretty  coquetry  of  her  nature,  and 
young  and  old  came  in  for  a  share  of  her  pleas 
antries.  Once  Sir  Thomas  met  her  on  the 
stair. 

"A  beautiful  wedding,  Sir  Thomas.  Your 
emotion  during  the  ceremony  was  a  credit  to 
your — heart." 

"And  why  the  Devil  should  you  be  turning 
so  pale  just  at  that  moment?"  he  demanded, 
forgetting  his  manners  in  his  renewed  appre 
hension. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  with  mock  sadness,  "  'twas 
my  business  to  turn  pale.  Know  you  not  that 
all  these  people  are  saying  that  Laurence  hath 
jilted  me  for  Judith?" 

"Stuff  and  rubbish!" 


244  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"  Well,  old  Zoe,  the  fortune-teller,  said  it  was 
'a  jilted  wedding, '  and  if  it  was  not  I,  then  I 
pray  you,  who?" 

For  a  moment  they  held  each  other's  gaze, 
searchingly,  accusingly;  then  with  a  little 
grimace  she  flitted  by  him  and  joined  her  part 
ner  who  waited  below,  kissing  her  hand  to  Sir 
Thomas  from  the  hall. 

"  By  the  thunder  gods,  I'd  give  an  eye  to  read 
her  heart  for  just  a  minute  !" 

Among  the  departing  guests  in  the  coaches 
and  boats  there  was  much  gossip  of  Ann,  much 
discussion  of  the  appropriateness  of  the  match 
and  the  happy  prospects  of  the  young  couple. 
Only  Tony  Foster  growled  ominously  as  he  lit 
his  pipe  for  the  home  ride,  thinking  of  the  look 
that  had  shot  from  Sir  Thomas  to  Ann  during 
that  momentary  pause  in  the  ceremony. 

"To  be  looking  cross-eyed  behind  a  bride's 
back  bodes  no  good,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  Thomas  Gary  and  that  black-eyed  witch  know 
something  they  are  hiding  from  the  rest  of  us; 
but  Tony  Foster  isn't  blind,  he  has  seen  the 
shadow  of  it." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

TENANTS  OF  A  FEVERED  BRAIN. 

"  A  thousand  fantasies 
Begin  to  throng  into  my  memory, 
Of  calling  shapes  and  beckoning  shadows  dire, 
And  airy  tongues  that  syllable  men's  names." 

— MILTON. 

T?OR  Judith  the  days  following  her  marriage 
were  as  an  unreal  dream,  so  that  she 
often  asked  herself  if  she  were  waking 
or  in  some  strange  trance.  And  yet  the  only 
material  difference  in  her  life  was  the  sense  of 
'  -mreiice's  -proprietorship.  Whenever  she  had 
t  .ought  even  dimly  of  marriage,  it  was  always 
with  Cotslea  as  a  background ;  and  here  she  was 
separated  forever  from  any  return  to  the  old 
associations.  She  thought  of  the  life  before 
her  as  some  new  mosaic  into  which  she  was 
to  fit  the  colours,  whether  harmoniously  or 
crudely  she  knew  remained  largely  with  herself. 
She  wanted  to  see  it  fair  and  beautiful,  and  so 
she  studied  her  husband  daily,  finding,  along 
with  his  little  weaknesses,  his  strong,  un 
obtrusive  love  for  her  and  his  kind  care  of  her 
245 


246  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

aging  father;  and  the  sense  of  restfulness  and 
protection  that  finally  came  to  her  steadied 
her  nerves  like  a  tonic. 

"She  looks  now  like  the  Judith  who  first 
came  to  us,"  said  Mistress  Falkner,  seeing  the 
colour  in  her  face  and  the  ready  smile  on  her 
lips. 

Ann  Randal  came  often  to  Rivermead,  never 
staying  long  at  a  time,  but  flitting  in  and  out 
with  a  restlessness  that  puzzled  Judith,  but 
which  Mistress  Falkner  declared  was  "of  her 
liver." 

"It's  boneset  and  senna  you  are  needing, 
Ann,  and  a  drop  of  bitters  before  breakfast, 
and  to  keep  out  of  the  hot  sun." 

"Dear  me,  Mistress  Falkner,  that  prescrip 
tion  is  as  long  as  the  alphabet ! ' ' 

"Well,  your  grave  will  be  longer  still,  an  you 
heed  it  not." 

Nor  were  those  at  Rivermead  the  only  ones 
who  noticed  her  restlessness. 

"You  are  as  pestiferous  as  a  bee  in  a  tar- 
bucket,"  Tony  Foster  said,  when  she  haunted 
his  warehouse  almost  daily.  "  Do  you  come 
here  to  the  settlement  that  people  may  see  your 
heart-break  for  Laurence  Falkner  ? ' ' 

"Mayhap  I  come  hoping  you  will  cure  my 


Tenants  of  a  Fevered  Brain  247 

wounds,  you  gentle,  soft-tongued  gallant !"  she 
quizzed. 

Whereupon  Tony  promptly  turned  his  back 
upon  her.  "If  ever  the  Devil  fitted  together 
a  conundrum-box,  it's  that  girl,"  he  said, 
watching  her  down  the  road.  "Her  heart  is 
like  a  bee-stung  bear  for  soreness,  and  yet  she 
laughs  as  if  bee-stings  did  not  hurt.  I  wonder 
what  it  is  she  and  old  Thomas  Gary  know  be 
tween  them. " 

For  Laurence,  the  universe  had  become  as 
Paradise ;  and  the  days  and  nights,  with  Judith 
at  his  side,  were  all  too  short  to  hold  his  happi 
ness.  Those  first  weeks  were  haunted  by 
spectral  fears  lest  other  news  should  come  of 
Arthur.  In  moments  of  sober  reasoning  he 
believed  the  man  to  be  dead,  but  at  others  he 
trembled  at  the  news  of  any  new  vessel  that 
anchored  in  the  James,  dreading  that  it  should 
bring  a  shadow  to  his  home.  He  argued  with 
himself  that  his  fears  were  but  phantoms  of  his 
fancy ;  but  whether  real  or  imaginary,  they  put 
the  one  drop  of  poison  in  his  cup  of  happiness, 
for  as  often  as  he  looked  into  his  wife's  clear 
eyes  and  read  there  her  trust  and  confidence, 
there  came  upon  him  a  sense  of  guilt  that  stung 
him  with  humiliation. 

But  as  the  days  grew  into  months  and  no 


248  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

news  came,  and  he  saw  Judith's  smile  brighten 
for  him  with  an  ever-growing  lustre  and  felt  her 
hand  now  and  then  shyly  give  back  the  pres 
sure  of  his,  he  told  himself  that  all  was  as  it 
should  be,  and  that  he  had  done  wisely  to  with 
hold  from  her  information  which  could  only 
have  filled  her  with  sorrow  and  uncertainty. 
By  the  end  of  July  he  had  dismissed  all  appre 
hensions  and  given  himself  up  to  the  master 
ful  happiness  that  thralled  him.  Judith  be 
came  his  constant  companion,  riding  with  him 
over  the  plantations,  and  in  the  heat  of  the  day 
sitting  with  him  in  the  library  adding  up  on 
the  tips  of  her  slender  fingers  the  long  rows  of 
figures  in  his  account  books.  Together  they 
went  through  every  drawer  and  compartment 
of  his  father's  desk,  searching  vainly  for  that 
lost  Randal  receipt ;  for  the  solicitors  in  London 
had  at  last  written  that  they* knew  naught  of  it, 
and  Amos  was  beginning  to  urge  his  claim. 

"It  passes  my  understanding,"  Judith  said 
one  morning,  as  she  turned  over  a  pile  of  papers 
and  read  their  fading  signatures;  "it  passes  my 
understanding  how  Master  Randal  could  have 
so  hidden  this  matter  from  his  wife.  It  must 
have  hurt  her  sorely  when  she  came  to  know  it. 
I  am  grateful  there  is  no  deception  between  me 
and  you,  Laurence,  but  that  our  lives  are  as 


Tenants  of  a  Fevered  Brain  249 

open  books  to  each  other.  I  could  not  bear  to 
know  you  hid  anything  from  me.  " 

He  did  not  answer ;  in  moments  like  these  he 
paid  the  full  penalty  of  his  error.  But  she  did 
not  notice  his  silence,  for  presently,  having 
finished  the  pile  of  papers,  she  said : 

"How  discomforted  you  were  about  this 
matter  a  few  days  before  our  marriage. " 

"  It  was  not  this  at  all, "  he  answered. 

"What,  then?"  she  asked  in  surprise,  her 
eyes  wide  open  and  full  upon  him. 

"About — about  another  matter  that — has 
blown  over — you  said  you  did  not  wish  to  hear 
it,"  he  replied;  and  then  was  sorry  he  had  not 
told  her  and  removed  the  cloud  that  dimmed  his 
truth  and  made  him  despise  himself.  But  her 
very  honesty  disarmed  his  resolution  and  made 
of  him  a  coward. 

That  he  did  not  find  the  paper  for  which  he 
searched  occasioned  Laurence  no  special*  un 
easiness.  If  Amos  pushed  the  matter  to  a 
trial  Seth  Perry  could  be  fetched  from  over  the 
Carolina  border,  where  he  lived  in  the  Albe- 
marle  settlement,  to  witness  to  the  payment. 
So  there  was  no  special  need  for  anxiety,  he  told 
his  mother  and  Judith. 

Sir  Thomas  had  never  recovered  from  the 
shock  of  his  son's  death,  and  the  prolonged 


250  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

heat  of  the  summer  told  sorely  upon  him. 
Judith  watched  the  growing  change  in  him  with 
consternation.  He  was  as  a  leaf  yellowing  to 
its  fall,  and  the  first  breath  of  autumn  did  its 
work,  for  in  the  late  August  days  he  took  to  his 
bed  and  waited,  with  that  same  grim  fortitude 
which  had  marked  his  soldier  years,  the  sum 
mons  of  the  great  last  foe  over  whom  there  may 
be  no  victory  won  with  lance  or  blade  fashioned 
in  the  workshops  of  man.  He  knew  that  the 
end  had  come,  and  set  his  few  affairs  to  rights. 

"It  is  my  marching  orders,  Judy  child,"  he 
said,  as  she  sat  by  the  bed,  his  hand  in  hers. 
"Eighteen  years  has  your  mother  been  waiting 
for  me;  long  will  it  take  me  to  tell  her  all 
that  has  befallen  in  that  time.  But  of  you, 
there  will  be  naught  to  say  that  is  not  pleasant 
to  hear;  but  mostly  will  I  be  glad  to  make 
known  to  her  your  wedding  and  the  safe  hands 
in  which  I  leave  you.  If  the  Stuart  cause 
should  fail,  Robert  must  come  here  to  Virginia 
and  live  near  you;  that  is  my  wish.  Eighteen 
years  apart,  your  mother  and  I,  and  now  the 
meeting  may  come  any  day— any  day.  " 

Always  those  were  the  things  of  which  he 
talked  in  his  quiet  moments— his  meeting  with 
his  lost  wife  and  his  satisfaction  over  Judith's 
marriage.  Now  and  then,  in  times  of  delirium, 


Tenants  of  a  Fevered  Brain  251 

there  were  snatches  of  the  old  life  at  Cotslea, 
and  allusions  to  Arthur  Seton  which  the  watcher 
by  the  pillow  did  not  understand.  One  windy 
night  when  she  and  Mistress  Falkner  sat  alone 
with  him,  he  suddenly  raised  himself  and  cried 
vehemently : 

"  If  he  be  indeed  alive,  think  you  not  he  would 
have  writ  letters?  This  one  is  old — old." 

Judith  turned  her  startled  eyes  upon  her 
cousin. 

"  He  but  raves,  child,  "  said  Mistress  Falkner. 
"He  will  be  better  in  the  morning  when  the 
blood  is  let. " 

But  presently  the  ramblings  went  on:  "Ar 
thur  Seton?  Tut,  tut,  man;  an  Irish  prison  in 
times  such  as  these  is  like  the  grave,  it  yawns 
but  for  a  corpse."  Judith  rose  to  her  feet, 
white  as  the  sheet  that  draped  the  bed,  but  her 
cousin  laid  her  hand  on  her  arm  warningly,  so 
she  only  stood  trembling  while  the  old  man 
went  on: 

"  Robert,  Robert !  What  news  of  the  king? 
—Damn  it,  what  means  Ann  Randal  by  such 
looks  ?  Her  black  eyes  hold  a  mischief ;  I  mis 
trust  me  but  she  is  as  wise  as  I. — Come  hither, 
Ann,  I  would  question  you.  Do  you  know  that 
Arthur  Seton  is  shut  up —  -  Aye,  aye,  your 
Excellency,  I  am  a  loyal  follower  of  the  king ;  a 


252  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

brewer's  fingers  have  not  the  right  crook  to 
hold  a  sceptre. " 

Mistress  Falkner  drew  Judith  back  to  her 
chair.  "Sit  down,  my  child;  'tis  but  a  whim 
of  the  fever ;  he  knows  not  what  he  is  saying.  " 

"You  are — sure?" 

"  Aye,  I  have  seen  it  many  times ;  fever  shows 
us  shapes  we  never  see  when  the  blood  is  cool.  " 

And  Judith,  reassured,  stilled  the  tremor  in 
her  hands  and  soothed  him  softly  until" he  slept, 
and  then  watched  until  he  waked  again  and 
looked  at  her  with  clear  vision,  knowing  noth 
ing  of  what  he  had  said  in  his  delirium.  And 
so  was  she  satisfied. 

She  did  not  tell  Laurence  of  these  strange 
fancies,  for  by  a  tacit  understanding  Seton's 
name  wras  never  mentioned;  neither  one  de 
sired  to  bring  it  from  the  silence  in  which  it  had 
so  long  remained.  But  often  she  thought  over 
those  fevered  vagaries,  wondering  at  the  mys 
terious  impulses  of  the  mind  when  uncontrolled 
by  an  aroused  and  active  will.  An  old  letter, 
an  Irish  prison,  Ann  Randal's  black  eyes, 
Arthur  Seton — what  a  strange  and  fantastic 
combination  of  ideas  ! 

"  Your  pulse  went  high  last  night ;  you  talked 
of  Arthur  Seton  as  if  he  were  not  dead,  and  that 
Ann  Randal  knew  it. ' 


Tenants  of  a  Fevered  Brain  253 

"  Did  I  ?  'Twas  but  a  cheating  image  of  the 
fever.  Seton  is  dead;  we  all  know  it,  for 
Robert  saw  him  fall.  I  always  think  of  him 
and  Ann  together.  And  the  Irish  prison — ah, 
my  boy  died  there  !" 

She  should  have  thought  of  that,  she  told 
herself  reproachfully;  and  comforted  him  ten 
derly. 

Within  the  week  the  staunch  old  Loyalist 
died,  crying  with  his  last  breath:  "Down 
with  Cromwell!  God  save  the  King!"  They 
buried  him  in  the  corner  of  the  garden  where 
Charles  Falkner  already  slept ;  and  the  sombre 
cedars  kept  ceaseless  guard  over  him ;  and  later 
on  a  slender  maple,  leaning  over  the  stone  wall, 
shook  down  upon  the  grave  a  covering  of  cloth 
of  gold. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

UNDER  A   TROPIC   SUN. 

"  Farewell,  remorse;  all  good  to  me  is  lost; 
Evil,  be  thou  my  good  !  " 

— MILTOX. 

A  SKY  fretted  with  never  a  cloud,  but 
•^  ^-  blue-white  in  the  untempered  shine  of 
the  sun;  a  dizzy  quavering  of  the  air  as  if 
it  were  vapour,  rather  than  invisible  ether;  no 
bird  song,  no  low  of  cattle,  no  call  of  human 
voice;  only  a  wide,  level  plain  waving  in  rich 
sugar  cane  that  shimmered  in  the  glare  like 
waves  of  consolidated  green  heat.  From  the 
plain  one  might  see  only  the  cane  and  the  dis 
tant  low  hills  whose  green  was  only  a  deeper 
tone  because  of  the  distance ;  but  from  the  hills 
not  only  the  plain,  but  the  huddled  settlement 
and  the  harbour  where  the  ships  rode  at  anchor 
were  visible,  and  far,  far  away,  beyond  the  en 
circling  reefs,  the  cool  white-caps  of  the  break 
ers  of  the  untrammeled  ocean.  The  heat,  the 
luxuriant  vegetation,  the  gorgeous  flowers,  the 
brilliant  but  songless  birds  all  proclaimed  the 
254 


Under  a  Tropic  Sun  255 

tropics.  Nowhere  save  under  a  perpendicular 
sun  could  such  things  be. 

At  first  only  the  things  that  the  wind  stirred 
had  motion  in  the  landscape;  but  presently 
there  came  from  the  tall  cane  a  squad  of  men, 
gasping  with  the  heat,  reeking  with  sweat, 
weary  and  dizzy;  for  under  the  cane  blades 
where  they  had  worked  the  air  was  like  a 
furnace.  An  overseer  and  half  a  dozen  guards 
followed  them  leisurely.  They  stood  about  the 
edge  of  the  field,  their  mouths  open,  their  chests 
heaving;  and  one,  tall  and  slender,  with  his  fair 
hair  curling  over  his  shoulders,  reeled  against 
the  trunk  of  a  tree,  a  ghastly  white.  A  great, 
rough  fellow,  with  the  body  of  a  giant  and  the 
face  of  a  tender  woman,  steadied  him,  and 
presently  brought  him  a  drink  from  a  wayside 
brook.  He  drank  the  water  with  savage  thirst, 
but  without  thanks,  and  fell  back  again  against 
the  tree. 

"Come,"  said  the  overseer  roughly,  "no 
more  of  that ;  I  thought  yesterday  would  have 
taught  you  your  lesson.  You  cursed  fine  gen 
tlemen  are  here  to  work — 'tis  for  that  I  hire  you 
from  the  barracks — yes,  to  work  and  not  to  put 
on  airs.  Hasn't  this  told  you  so  often  enough  ? ' ' 
He  let  his  long  whip  fly  out  snappingly  from 
its  handle  as  he  spoke,  as  if  here  were  an  argu- 


256  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

ment  that  needed  no  words  to  enforce  it.  A 
scowl  went  round  the  group,  for  the  feel  of  the 
whip  was  known  to  them  all ;  and  into  the  face 
of  the  fainting  man  a  deadly  hate  fought  down 
the  pallor. 

"  You  are  not  fighting  for  Charles  Stuart  now, 
you  are  working  my  cane,  and  there's  a  d — n 
difference  between  the  jobs." 

"The  difference  between  heaven  and  hell," 
muttered  the  man  beside  the  tree.  But  the 
whip-lash,  singing  its  cracking  song  about  his 
head,  silenced  him.  There  was  no  use  courting 
its  burning,  degrading  touch.  The  big  fellow 
moved,  as  if  by  careless  accident,  between  the 
cruel,  swinging  thong  and  this  younger,  frailer 
man.  So  it  had  often  been  before ;  so  would  it 
be  many  times  again;  for  in  his  heart  was  a 
brooding  tenderness  for  this  slighter,  weaker 
one  whose  quick  tongue  so  often  drew  the  over 
seer's  fire.  Many  times  had  he  slipped  in  be 
tween  him  and  his  punishment,  neither  ex 
pecting  nor  receiving  thanks. 

"You  are  a  fool,"  the  white  lips  would  say. 
"  I  would  not  do  it  for  you.  " 

"  I  had  a  little  brother  once,  and  you  look  like 
him,"  the  giant  would  answer. 

After  a  few  deep  breaths,  the  squad,  answer 
ing  the  call  of  the  overseer,  plunged  again  into 


Under  a  Tropic  Sim  257 

the  cane  to  finish  the  task  laid  out  for  them. 

And  this  had  been  their  life  for  weeks — all 
day  to  toil,  at  the  end  of  a  goad,  under  the 
blistering,  blinding  tropic  sun;  and  at  night  to 
lie  exhausted  under  sheds  in  a  palisade,  with 
knotted  scourge  and  cocked  gun  outside  the 
doors.  No  wonder  eyes  were  wolfish  with  hate 
and  hearts  desperate  with  hopelessness.  In 
the  stifling  air  between  the  cane  rows  they 
toiled  and  sweated  and  staggered ;  and  now  and 
then  whispered  jerkily  to  each  other  behind  the 
guards'  backs;  for  desperation  and  misery  are 
the  breeders  of  daring  schemes.  Once  or  twice 
the  big  man  did  the  work  of  the  slender,  pale 
one,  that  the  latter  might  catch  his  quavering, 
fevered  breath. 

Night  came  at  last,  with  its  lack  of  twilight, 
its  engulfing  darkness,  its  swift  rush  of  stars, 
its  heavy,  languorous  tropic  odours. 

Within  the  quarters  of  the  indentured  soldiers 
was  an  ominous  silence,  save  where  some  restless 
body  turned  on  its  hard  bed;  or  some  deluded 
dreamer,  freed  by  slumber  from  the  pain  and 
degradation  of  the  present,  saw  for  a  moment 
the  sunshine  of  other  days,  the  light  of  lost 
smiles  and  tender  faces  about  him ;  and  cried 
out  a  joy  that  turned  to  slow  agony  with  the 
opening  eyes. 


258  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

When  the  blackest  hour  of  the  midnight  of 
that  blistering  day  was  come,  the  man  with 
the  fair  curls  raised  himself  and,  crawling 
down  the  line  of  sleepers,  awakened  them 
with  whisper  and  touch.  Twelve  desperate 
men,  half  frantic  with  the  fever  of  the  sun 
and  the  equally  burning  touch  of  the  lash— 
they  would  be  a  formidable  menace  to  the 
guards  without,  armed  though  the  latter  were. 
Following  their  leader,  the  men  crept  through 
the  shadow  to  the  palisade  where  it  came  near 
est  to  the  shed.  There  nine  of  them  turned 
back,  believing  the  attempt  to  be  hopeless  and 
dreading  the  punishment  of  failure.  But  the 
fair-haired  leader  set  his  teeth  grimly: 

"For  me,  the  end  of  this  has  come,  one  way 
or  the  other." 

He  tried  to  scale  the  post  to  the  top  of  the 
shed,  but  in  his  fingers  was  not  the  requisite  , 
grip,  and  he  slipped  back  again  and  again. 
The  big  man,  who  had  gone  up  like  a  cat,  peered 
back  into  the  gloom,  then  slipped  again  to  the 
ground. 

"Come,"  he  whispered;  "I  could  not  leave 
you  here.  Up  with  you!"  And  with  a 
vigorous  lift  he  sent  the  slight  body  to  its 
destination,  and  for  the  second  time  climbed 
up  again. 


Under  a  Tropic  Sun  259 

The  third  man  was  already  there,  and  for  a 
few  minutes  they  lay  still,  listening.  Then  the 
third  one  of  the  group  stretched  out  and  swung 
himself  across  the  intervening  space  onto  the 
palisade,  and  dropped  like  a  spider  to  the 
ground  outside.  But  again  the  slender  man 
failed  to  achieve  a  like  purpose ;  the  weakness 
of  fever  was  in  his  long  limbs,  and  the  uprights 
of  the  palisade  seemed  miles  away  in  the 
wavering  shadow-mist.  It  could  not  be;  and 
he  sank  back  with  a  groan.  But  the  same 
friendly  hand  that  had  lifted  him  to  the  shed 
was  ready  with  its  aid. 

"I  can  reach  the  palisade  with  my  feet," 
the  big  man  whispered;  "I  will  brace  them 
there  and  hold  fast  to  this  beam.  My  body 
will  be  as  a  bridge ;  if  you  are  very  quick  you 
can  crawl  over  me  to  the  palisade — come." 

It  was  done;  in  a  few  minutes  the  slender, 
quivering  figure  stood  by  the  man  outside  the 
wooden  wall  and  pushed  the  tangled  hair  fever 
ishly  from  his  brow,  looking  back  impatiently 
the  while  for  his  comrade  to  follow.  He  forgot 
that  comrade  had  to  change  his  whole  position 
before  he  could  come.  In  that  instant  of  wait 
ing  there  was  a  cry  from  the  guardhouse,  a 
quick  rush  of  feet,  the  clear  report  of  a  gun. 
Inside  the  palisade  the  men  dropped  again  to 


260  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

their  places  in  feigned  sleep — the  lash  and  the 
oaths  were  bad  enough  in  work  hours.  On  the 
shed  the  big  man  lay  like  a  log;  while  in  the 
shadow  below  the  two  others  crouched  against 
the  wooden  boards.  Instinctively  the  slender 
one  stooped  and  picked  up  a  stone  that  turned 
under  his  foot. 

"  Where  was  the  noise,  on  the  shed,  or  around 
the  palisade?"  thundered  the  overseer. 

In  that  one  moment  the  slender  man  saw 
where  lay  his  safety.  It  did  not  matter  that 
the  man  on  the  roof  was  his  friend,  his  bene 
factor;  he  would  step  over  the  dead  body  of 
his  own  brother  if  need  be,  out  of  this  hell,  into 
the  world  beyond.  The  hand  that  held  the 
stone  flew  up  sharply,  the  missile  whirred 
through  the  darkness  and  fell  clattering  upon 
the  boards  of  the  shed  beside  the  prostrate 
figure  there,  drawing  the  attention  of  the 
guards. 

"  It  is  on  the  roof,  "  they  shouted  to  the  over 
seer,  and  ran  back  to  the  gate. 

At  that  moment  two  figures  dashed  through 
the  dense  gloom  along  the  edge  of  the  cane  field 
to  the  silent  forest  in  the  distance.  Once  over 
the  hills,  the  sea  lay  before  them,  the  sea  with  its 
white-winged  messengers  that  sailed  away  to 


Under  a  Tropic  Sun  261 

peace  and  safety,  where  no  cane  grew  under  a 
tropic  sky  and  no  knotted  whip-lash  left  its 
burning,  unfading  mark  on  quivering,  lacerated 
flesh. 

In  the  yellow  dawn,  beside  the  water,  the 
slender  man  threw  the  fair  hair  from  his  face 
and  drew  a  long,  deep  breath.  What  if  he  had 
betrayed  his  friend;  what  if  in  his  soul  was  a 
mark  as  ghastly,  as  indelible  as  the  stain  upon 
Cain's  hands  ?  He  was  free,  quit  of  the  stifling, 
strangling  atmosphere  of  the  indentured  sol 
diers'  camp.  He  was  free — free  to  breathe,  to 
take  his  ease,  to  live — free  to  follow  the  guiding 
star  of  a  woman's  face  over  the  crested  waves 
of  the  clear,  cool  ocean.  What  was  remorse  to 
him  ?  What  were  the  agonies  of  the  tortured 
man  he  had  sacrificed  ?  Ah,  the  joy  of  the  wind, 
the  ecstasy  of  the  moving  waters  at  his  feet  ! 
Here  now  was  a  fisher's  boat  coming  down  the 
bay;  it  would  take  him  to  yonder  out-bound 
vessel.  There  was  pity  in  the  sailors'  hearts 
for  the  prisoners  turned  into  slaves ;  they  would 
hide  him,  never  fear. 

He  raised  his  plumed  hat  and  signalled  the 
fisher,  and  the  boat  turned  in  shoreward ;  how 
slow  it  came  through  the  curling  waters  !  But 
it  was  here  at  last ;  farewell  to  toil  and  shame, 


262  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

farewell  to  starvation  and  slavery  and  that 
cruel,  stinging  lash  !  Then  just  as  he  moved  to 
step  into  the  boat,  a  heavy  hand  fell  on  his 
shoulder. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE   FRINGES   OF  A   SHADOW. 

"  But  when  men  think  they  most  in  safety  stand, 
The  greatest  peril  often  is  at  hand." 

— DRAYTON. 

"\/rOU  need  not  be  afraid  for  me,"  Judith 
•*•  said,  after  her  father's  death,  rinding 
Laurence's  eyes  on  her  in  a  troubled  gaze. 
"You  showed  me  once  the  selfishness  of 
grief,  and  I  have  not  forgotten  the  lesson. 
Father  had  suffered  so  much  of  late  and  longed 
so  for  the  meeting  with  mother,  that  I  feel  it 
would  be  wrong  to  him  and  to  you  for  me  to 
give  myself  up  to  grief."  And  she  asked  for 
her  horse  to  be  brought  with  his  and  went  with 
him  on  his  daily  rounds. 

Ann  came  and  spent  a  week,  treating  her 
with  a  thoughtful  gentleness  that  surprised 
even  Laurence.  One  day,  in  her  room,  notic 
ing  Judith's  red  eyes,  she  said: 

"Cry  with  me  as  much  as  you  like,  Judith. 
My  own  heart  is  often  full  of  impatience  and 
263 


264  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

bitterness,  so  that  I  know  what  a  relief  tears 
are." 

"  Why  should  you  ever  cry,  Ann  ?  You  have 
lost  no  relative  or  friend ;  I  think  I  never  knew 
a  girl's  life  to  be  so  unshadowed." 

The  black  eyes  looked  at  her  a  moment  with 
a  strange  wistfulness ;  then  a  laugh  rippled  over 
the  red  lips:  "  I  suppose,  my  dear,  it  is  just  a 
case  of  nerves.  Amos  told  me  last  night  that 
I  had  come  to  be  unbearable ;  but  you  know  a 
sister's  moods  never  find  favour  in  a  brother's 
sight.  Other  girls  may  mope  or  simper,  be  as 
cross  as  two  sticks  or  as  amiable  as  an  angel, 
and  it  is  all  right;  but  sisters  must  be  always 
as  calm  and  even  tempered  as  though  they  were 
born  on  a  dead  level.  " 

She  turned  to  the  window,  for  although  she 
still  laughed  there  was  a  moisture  about  her 
eyelids  she  did  not  wish  to  be  seen.  But 
Judith  saw  and  a  quick  sympathy  came  for 
her  friend. 

"  Girls  have  a  right  to  their  moods  as  well  as 
boys  have;  Amos  should  be  gentler  with  you; 
you  are  all  unnerved,  you  poor  girl.  I  think 
Cousin  Janet  is  right,  you  go  too  much  in  the 
sun.  Why  do  you  take  that  long  ride  to  the 
settlement  every  day?" 

For  a  moment  the  bulwarks  of  Ann's  reserve 


The  Fringes  of  a  Shadow  265 

were  battered  down ;  even  her  laughter  was  for 
gotten.  "Because  I  must,  I  must !"  she  cried 
with  a  sudden  passionate  gesture.  "  If  I  sit  at 
home  I  seem  strangling,  burning  up  with  a 
fever  of  impatience  and  yearning.  I  want  to 
see  the  ships  that  come  over  the  water — for 
the  sea  leads  back  to  England — to  England 
and  Ireland  where—  She  stopped,  stayed 

by  Judith's  face.  "There,  I  have  frightened 
you." 

Judith  drew  her  down  to  the  sofa.  "  Not  so 
much  frightened  as  surprised.  I  cannot  see 
what  there  is  over  the  sea  that  you  so  much 
desire,  seeing  that  your  people  are  here,  and 
that  your  life  has  nearly  all  been  spent  in  the 

Colonies." 

• 

"  True, "  replied  Ann,  her  face  hidden  on  the 
pillow,  while  she  searched  her  mind  for  some 
explanation  that  would  sound  reasonable.  "I 
have  many  reasons  for  being  content  here  in 
Virginia.  Sometimes  I  think  my  discontent 
may  be  a  lingering  dread  of  the  Indians.  You 
know  nothing  of  them,  but  I  have  been  here 
through  two  massacres,  and  realize  all  the 
horrors  of  such  a  time.  Our  very  doorstep  was 
stained  with  blood — I  saw  my  nurse  impaled 
on  a  sharpened  rail,  and  a  baby's  brains  dashed 
out  against  our  gatepost,  while  from  our  upper 


266  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

windows  father  and  the  other  men  shot  the 
savages  down." 

"You  must  not  think  of  these  things;  they 
prey  upon  your  nerves." 

"Amos  says  I  am  nothing  but  nerves — 'tis 
of  that  he  complains.  " 

"  I  do  not  wonder,  if  you  are  often  betrayed 
into  moods  like  this.  Be  quiet  for  a  while  and 
rest."  Then  presently  she  added:  "There  is 
Tony  Foster  coming  down  the  avenue ;  he  may 
know  something  to  divert  you ;  let  us  go  down.  " 

"  By  all  means,  for  Tony  is  as  good  as  a 
news-sheet ;  better,  even ;  for  he  not  only  knows 
the  news,  but  serves  it  as  a  good  housewife 
serves  pudding— with  plenty  of  sauce." 

But  Tony  was  cross  that  morning.  "No, 
there  isn't  any  news,"  he  said  shortly  to  Ann's 
question. 

"No  marriages,  or  lovers'  quarrels,  or  wife- 
beatings?  The  Colony  is  well  behaved  these 
days." 

"  Too  well  by  half,  for  the  gossips.  Laurence 
here  has  gotten  married  at  last,  so  we  are  cut  off 
from  the  excitement  of  speculating  whether 
you  or  Mistress  Judith  will  be  the  bride. 
Harry  Beach  wagered  a  fox-hound  on  you,  and 
lost." 


The  Fringes  of  a  Shadow  267 

"  He  had  as  little  discretion  as  luck  in  placing 
his  bet." 

"  Yes ;  I  told  him  I  would  not  bet  on  you  for 
anything,  save  to  change  your  mind." 

"  A  mind  is  an  easy  thing  to  change,  "  laughed 
Judith,  "it  has  no  fastenings— no  hooks  and 
eyelets,  and  no  strings  to  get  into  hard  knots. " 

"You  mean  a  woman's  mind,"  said  Tony, 
dryly.  "It's  not  only  without  fastenings,  but 
it  is  run-down-in-the-heel  through  too  much 
shifting." 

Judith  cried  shame  upon  him  for  a  skeptic, 
and  Ann  bade  him  quit  talking  of  minds  and 
tell  them  the  news. 

"As  I  said  before  we  have  nothing  for  con 
stant  reference  since  Laurence  put  a  stop  to 
our  guessing ;  Delia  Swift  has  made  up  with  her 
sweetheart  for  the  hundredth  time,  so  there  are 
no  lovers'  quarrels  to  entertain  us ;  and  we  are 
without  fights  because  Sutley  has  been  sick  of 
the  fever,  and  Tim  Dean  has  no  longer  the 
money  nor  the  credit  on  which  to  get  drunk.  " 

"  Of  what,  then,  do  you  talk  ?  For  you  surely 
never  hold  your  tongues,  "  said  Ann,  lazily. 

"The  only  matter  of  gossip  we  have  is  why 
you  come  so  often  to  the  settlement. " 

Judith,  watching,  saw  a  startled  flicking  of 
her  friend's  eyes;  then  Ann  shrugged  her 


268  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

shoulders  carelessly.  "You  have  much  to 
occupy  your  time.  Say  to  your  fellow-gossips 
that  I  go  to  get  up  an  appetite  for  my  dinner. " 

"Does  gazing  down  the  river  by  the  hour 
help  your  appetite?" 

"It  does  not  hurt  it." 

"No,  not  for  looking  into  my  post  pouches. 
Are  you  expecting  another  letter  like  the  one 
that  came  just  before  Laurence  was  married — 
the  one  in  the  queer  hand-writing?" 

The  girl  lifted  her  hand  writh  a  quick,  im 
perious  gesture,  and  her  glance  went  furtively 
to  the  other  two  occupants  of  the  room ;  but 
Laurence  had  leaned  from  the  window  to  catch 
a  banging  shutter,  and  Judith,  who  held  the 
curtain  aside  for  him,  was  looking  at  Tony  with 
a  wondering  surprise. 

"Does  Ann  get  love-letters  from  England, 
Tony?" 

"  Of  course,  "  laughed  Ann,  before  Tony  could 
speak.  "  That  is  the  kind  of  letters  an  aunt 
would  write  to  a  niece." 

"  Your  aunt  did  not  write  the  letter  that  came 
in  the  post  with  Laurence's. " 

Again  Ann  lifted  her  hand  with  that  silen 
cing  gesture;  but  Tony  only  laughed;  "Oh,  I 
know  how  Lissa  found  it  in  the  wood,  and  how 
you  took  it  from  her." 


The  Fringes  of  a  'Shadow  269 

"My  dear  Tony,"  she  said,  with  an  air  of 
perfect  candour,  "that  was  not  my  aunt's 
letter  at  all.  Lissa  would  not  have  been  in 
terested  in  that.  Some  of  my  letters  come  by 
special  messenger  from — Henrico." 

"From  Larry  Herrick,  you  mean?" 

"He  has  really  a  charming  style,  so  lover- 
like  and  enticing.  Some  day,  if  you  are  good 
and  tell  me  a  rare  bit  of  gossip,  I'll  let  you  read 
one  of  them  as  a  guide  for  yourself — Lissa  Sut- 
ley  has  a  fondness  for— love-letters  !" 

The  dart  told,  for  the  scar  on  Tony's  face 
flamed  angrily.  "Well,  she  reads  none  of 
yours,  though  you  drop  them  in  the  road,  and 
bargain  with  her  for  their  return.  Come, 
Laurence,  leave  that  shutter  alone,  and  let  us 
to  the  library ;  I  have  some  papers  for  your  eye 
and  no  time  to  waste  bandying  words  with  a 
woman. " 

"  Poor  Tony,  I  wonder  if  he  knows  he  is  in 
sanely  jealous  of  Larry  Herrick,"  Ann  said, 
looking  after  the  two  figures,  one  straight  and 
shapely,  the  other  crooked  and  halting.  "  He 
is  Lissa's  one  steadfast  friend ;  she  should  marry 
him  for  gratitude." 

"A  man  is  not  content  with  gratitude  from 
his  wife,"  answered  Judith,  and  was  instantly 


270  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

sorry  she  had  spoken,  remembering  her  own 
husband. 

Afterwards,  when  Ann  was  gone,  she  recalled 
the  conversation,  and  said  to  Laurence:  "Do 
you  not  find  Ann  greatly  changed  during  the 
summer?  She  goes  from  grave  to  gay  so 
quickly  that  I  can  scarce  keep  up  with  her 
moods.  It  sometimes  seems  as  if  she  had  some 
trouble  or  secret  which  she  wished  to  tell  and 
could  not. " 

He  looked  at  her  in  a  startled  silence,  then 
turned  to  the  window;  but  his  mother  plucked 
the  young  wife  by  the  sleeve. 

"Hush;  say  it  not  to  him,"  she  whispered. 
"Perchance  it  was  his  marriage  that  brought 
the  change.  Girls  are  strange  creatures,  and 
there  was  a  time — at  least  people  said  there  was 
—when  he—  A  nod  toward  Laurence's 

back  concluded  the  sentence,  but  Judith  under 
stood,  and  there  came  a  great  wave  of  pity  for 
her  friend.  How  many  things  had  been  turned 
from  their  rightful  course  by  her  coming  to 
Rivermead !  But  for  her,  Laurence  would 
doubtless  have  loved  and  wedded  his  dark- 
eyed  neighbour,  and  all  would  have  been  well. 

She  was  thinking  of  these  things  the  next 
morning  as  she  and  Laurence  rode  through  the 


The  Fringes  of  a  Shadow  271 

fields,  the  crisp  air  filling  her  lungs  like  some 
rare  elixir. 

"Do  you  remember,  Judy,"  he  asked 
suddenly,  "how  you  came  with  me  to  the 
cider-press  along  this  road  a  year  ago?" 

"The  day  we  made  Powhatan  carry  double? 
Yes,  I  remember  it  well :  and  also  how  Cousin 
Janet  afterwards  charged  me  I  was  to  remember 
you  were  only  my  second  cousin.  That  was 
the  first  time  I  ever  realized  you  did  not  stand 
to  me  in  the  same  light  as  my  brothers." 

"I  am  glad  she  showed  you  the  difference; 
it  saved  me  the  trouble  later  on,"  he  said, 
smiling. 

"  How  many  things  have  happened  in  the 
year  since  that  day." 

"And  among  them  the  happiest  thing  that 
ever  happened  in  any  year — our  marriage." 
He  leaned  from  his  horse  and  touched  her  hand 
softly.  He  never  asked  her  if  she  loved  him; 
he  was  waiting  for  the  faint,  tremulous  signs  a 
lover's  eyes  alone  may  read  before  putting  her 
to  the  test  of  an  answer.  He  would  be  satisfied 
with  no  mild  preference,  no  friendly  acquies 
cence;  nothing  but  the  absorbing  passion  of 
her  heart  would  he  take.  Until  that  was  his, 
he  would  wait ;  content  to  give  and  not  to  ask. 
"  You  were  ignorant  that  day  of  the  happiness 


272  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

that  filled  my  soul,"  he  went  on  presently; 
"by  that  stump  yonder  a  partridge  flew  up, 
and  Powhatan  shied  at  the  whirr  of  its  wings. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  quick  tightening  of  your 
arm  about — for  you  were  'hugging  a  young  man 
about  the  waist  that  day' — bold  girl  that  you 
were ! ' ' 

She  laughed  with  him.  "I  remember  \vhat 
Cousin  Janet  said." 

"  It  was  the  same  thing  at  the  sloping  brook- 
side.  I  went  that  way  on  purpose,  though  you 
never  suspected.  I  marvel  even  yet  at  the 
self-control  that  enabled  me  to  keep  from  telling 
my  love,  useless  though  I  knew  it  would  be.  " 

"Yes,"  she  answered  absently,  "it  would 
have  been  useless,  for  I  had  then  no  right  to 
listen — that  was  the  day  before  we  had  the 
news  of  Arthur's  death.  "  It  was  the  first  time 
in  the  months  of  their  marriage  that  she  had 
mentioned  Seton's  name,  and  there  was  a  slight 
hesitancy  in  her  voice ;  not  from  sentiment,  but 
from  a  natural  timidity  at  breaking  the  silence 
they  had  so  long  maintained  on  the  subject. 
After  a  few  minutes  she  said:  "I  never  told 
you  that  rambling  fancy  father  had  in  his  last 
illness  that  Arthur  was  not  dead  at  all;  but 
that  Ann  had  shut  him  up  somewhere  and 
would  not  tell." 


The  Fringes  of  a  Shadow  273 

"  No,  you  never  told  me,  "  he  answered,  with 
something  clutching  at  his  heart-strings. 

"I  wanted  to  call  you  to  hear  him,  but 
Cousin  Janet  said  it  was  but  the  delirium;  and 
afterwards  when  he  roused  and  I  told  him  of  it, 
he  said  the  same  thing,  and  that  he  had  been 
dreaming  of  the  prison  in  which  Thomas  died. 
He  called  Ann  so  persistently  that  I  would  have 
sent  for  her,  save  that  Cousin  Janet  thought  it 
would  only  excite  him  the  more." 

Again  that  strangling  clutch  at  his  heart. 
What  a  contemptible  coward  his  guilty  con 
science  made  of  him  always !  Her  content 
during  the  past  weeks  had  often  seemed  but  the 
calm  of  resignation ;  he  knew  he  had  as  yet  no 
sure  hold  on  her  heart,  and  now  her  mention  of 
her  old  lover  stirred  his  smouldering  jealousy 
anew.  He  searched  her  face,  but  there  was  no 
heightening  of  her  colour,  no  faintest  suspicion 
in  her  glance.  She  had  accepted  her  father's 
and  his  mother's  explanation.  He  thought 
gratefully  of  Sir  Thomas;  there  was  a  touch  of 
pathos  in  the  old  man's  dying  efforts  to  save 
him. 

"  Fever  brings  deceptive  fancies  sometimes,  " 
he  said.  And  then  they  rode  on  silently  over 
the  golden  stubble  of  the  harvest  fields,  starred 
here  and  there  with  the  blue  discs  of  late-blow- 


274  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

ing  morning-glories,  and  scintillant  with  dew- 
drops  spread  on  every  bit  of  cobweb  hung  like 
fairy  sails  upon  the  weeds.  It  was  a  marvel 
lous  morning,  and  after  a  little  Judith  fell  to 
talking  of  the  yellow  tinge  of  the  early  sun 
light,  and  the  vanishing  shadows  in  the  land 
scape. 

"  'Tis  as  the  changes  in  a  human  face,"  she 
said,  pointing  with  her  whip  to  where  the 
dropped  shadow  of  a  cloud  ran  through  the 
meadow  grass. 

But  Laurence  could  not  answer.  He  was 
going  over  mentally  those  three  last  days  of 
May,  with  their  struggle  and  defeat.  With  the 
surety  of  Arthur's  death  he  thought  he  had 
thrust  aside  all  fear  forever,  however  the 
humiliation  might  bite  into  his  conscience ;  but 
here  again  \vas  the  old  dread  confronting  him, 
and  the  falsehood  that  must  always  lie  between 
him  and  Judith  touched  him  with  a  new  con 
trition.  What  did  Sir  Thomas  mean  by  that 
suspicion  of  Ann  Randal  ?  Was  there  here 
some  mystery  he  had  not  solved  ?  And  if  Ann 
had  indeed  guessed  his  secret,  what  would  she 
do  with  her  knowledge  ?  He  stood  once  more 
upon  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  that  yawned  for 
his  happiness. 

Not  for  that  morning  only,  but  for  days,  did 


The  Fringes  of  a  Shadow  275 

he  put  these  torturing  questions  to  himself; 
trying  vainly  to  frame  replies  that  would  satisfy 
his  fears,  seeing  in  Ann's  every  visit  a  fresh 
menace  to  his  life  with  Judith. 

Then,  with  a  strong  effort  of  will,  he  put  the 
whole  matter  aside:  "My  mother  was  right, 
it  was  but  a  fancy  from  the  fever.  Ann  knows 
nothing;  in  his  delirium  he  connected  her  with 
Seton  because  of  the  kinship.  'Tis  now  nine 
months  since  that  fatal  letter  was  written  from 
the  Irish  prison;  all  possible  danger  is  past,  and 
I  will  not  torment  myself  with  a  phantom 
dread." 

And  he  took  his  young  wife  in  his  arms,  and 
teaching  her  love's  imperial  lesson,  forgot  the 
grim  skeleton  of  remorse  that  gibed  and  beck 
oned  at  his  elbow, 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

OUT    OF    A    VANISHED    JUNE-TIME. 

"  The  candle  of  hope  all  spluttering  burns, 
And  the  click  of  the  loom  to  a  jarring  turns, 
And  the  thread  is  snapped  where  the  shuttle  toiled, 
And  the  weaver's  pattern  is  marred  and  spoiled." 

K. 


Indian  Summer,  which  is  the  glory 
of  Virginia's  climate,  lingered  late  that 
year,  filling  the  nights  with  soft  airs  and 
the  days  with  purple  gleams  and  golden 
mists.  A  tender  charm,  as  of  summer  hours 
long  lost  and  found  again  amid  the  gloaming  of 
the  year,  brooded  over  the  earth,  and  under  the 
benign  influence  human  hearts  grew  warm  and 
mellow  with  that  love  which  is  a  brooding 
charity. 

It  was  a  day  in  late  November.  The  wharf 
of  the  settlement  was  a  scene  of  busy  activity, 
for  two  merchantmen  were  making  up  their 
cargoes  for  the  London  market.  Fragrant 
cedar  logs  were  bargained  for,  and  great  casks 
of  tobacco  and  smaller  ones  of  corn  were 
weighed  or  measured  and  stowed  in  the  holds 
276 


Out  of  a  Vanished  June-Time         277 

of  the  vessels  riding  lazily  the  river  current  and 
tugging  futilely  now  and  then  at  the  restrain 
ing  anchors  that  held  them  from  the  limitless 
ocean  ways  they  were  later  on  to  travel. 

"  I  would  not  live  in  London  for  a  fortune — 
there  isn't  air  enough  in  its  stuffy  streets  to  fill 
my  lungs ;  but  still  it  always  gives  me  a  lump  in 
my  throat  to  see  a  ship  start  on  the  home 
voyage,"  Tony  Foster  said,  meeting  Laurence 
at  the  warehouse  door,  note  book  in  hand. 

"A  lump  in  your  throat?  You  must  be 
homesick  for  someone  in  England,  Tony;  or 
else  your  cider  jug  is  empty.  Put  it  in  the 
wagon,  and  William  shall  bring  you  something 
to-morrow  good  enough  to  wash  away  a  moun 
tain  of  trouble,  let  alone  a  little  thing  like  a 
lump  in  your  throat." 

Tony  laughed.  "I'll  give  William  the  jug; 
but  I  have  no  mountains  of  trouble  to  wash 
away,  seeing  I'm  not  a  married  man.  I'm 
glad  you  have  a  wife,  Laurence,  since  you  were 
so  set  on  getting  her;  but  I'm  a  devilish  sight 
gladder  I  am  free  of  one." 

"Come,  come;  your  very  tone  belies  your 
words,  for  it  is  full  of  envy.  What  has  Lissa 
been  doing  of  late  to  set  your  tongue  on  such  an 
edge?" 

"The    snappy    jade!"    Tony    said,    turning 


278  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

back  his  cuff  and  showing  the  blue  prints  of 
teeth  on  his  wrist.  "Last  night  there  came  a 
letter  to  her  from  Larry  Herrick,  the  first  one 
since  he  went  away;  and  when  I  would  not  let 
her  have  it,  telling  her  it  was  an  insult  for  him 
to  write,  she  grabbed  for  it  and  got  hold  of  my 
hand  and  bit  it,  the  savage  ! " 

"You'll  never  cure  her  of  her  fancy,  Tony; 
more's  the  pity." 

"Won't  I?"  said  the  other,  with  a 
triumphant  laugh.  "Well,  listen;  when  at  last 
I  gave  her  the  letter,  bidding  her  take  it  and 
be  gone  out  of  my  sight,  she  read  not  a  word 
of  it,  but  tore  it  into  bits  before  my  face  and 
stamped  and  spat  upon  it,  and  told  the  messen 
ger  to  tell  him  that  for  answer.  Then  when 
the  man  was  gone  she  flouts  me,  calls  me  hard 
names  by  the  dozen  and  falls  over  on  that  pile 
of  sacking  and  cries  like  a  calf  for  its  dam.— 
Women  were  God's  first  fools,  and  He  never 
changed  the  pattern.  Of  course  I  cared  not  a 
dust  o'  ashes  for  her  whimpering,  only  it  made 
me  add  my  ledger  wrong,  so  there  were  five 
columns  to  go  over. 

"I  see,"  laughed  Laurence. 

"There's  naught  to  laugh  at  in  that;  I  can 
never  abide  a  blotted  ledger,"  growled  Tony. 
"  By  and  by,  when  she'd  done  crying,  she  comes 


Out  of  a  Vanished  June-Time         279 

here  to  the  desk  for  her  sewing  things,  and 
when  she  sees  my  hand  like  this,  she  begins  to 
cry  all  over  again  and  to  call  herself  names, 
and — d — n  this  pipe,  it  is  as  hard  to  draw  as  a 
tooth  ! — and  she  rubbed  it  with  her  little  soft 
brown  fingers,  and — curse  me,  if  she  did  not 
kiss  the  place  she'd  just  been  biting!  A 
woman's  like  a  cat,  you  never  know  which  way 
she'll  jump;  just  as  like  to  go  backwards  as 
forwards,  or  up  as  down."  His  voice  was  still 
like  a  growl,  but  the  smile  on  the  scarred  face 
transfigured  it. 

"And  yet  methinks  you  started  in  by  saying 
you  were  glad  you  had  not  a  wife, "  Laurence 
said  with  significant  emphasis. 

But  for  answer,  Tony  pushed  him  scoutingly 
aside  and,  picking  up  his  note  book,  went  out 
to  the  wharf,  for  a  sloop  from  the  tropics,  which 
had  that  morning  been  sighted  down  the  river, 
had  now  dropped  anchor,  and  he  must  see  what 
she  had  worth  the  buying.  Laurence  stood  look 
ing  out  of  the  door  a  moment  at  the  little  craft, 
thinking  of  Sir  Thomas  and  how  eager  he  always 
was  at  the  arrival  of  a  new  vessel.  But  this 
stranger  was  from  the  Barbadoes,  and  had  no 
special  interest  for  him,  so  he  sent  William  to 
the  wharf  for  a  basket  of  the  rare  fruit  she  was 
sure  to  bring  that  he  might  carry  it  to  Judith, 


280  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

and  then  turned  to  his  business  which  was 
urgent.  The  sailing  master  of  one  of  the  mer 
chantmen  wanted  his  tobacco  and  corn; and 
when  the  bargain  was  driven,  he  rode  home  in  a 
rare  good  humour,  calculating  his  gains.  With 
the  proceeds  of  one  cask  he  would  buy  Judith  a 
pearl  brooch  that  would  be  scarce  as  white  as 
the  throat  it  touched.  And  another  should 
pay  for  a  gown;  he  had  never  yet  given  her  a 
gown,  she  protested  she  had  so  many;  but  this 
should  be  of  silk,  and  blue  like  the  April  violets 
she  loved  so  well.  And  there  should  be  laces 
on  it,  and  frills  and  furbelows  such  as  women 
liked;  and  she  would  be  more  beautiful  in  it 
than  ever  before.  And  he  thought  of  how  she 
would  smile,  and  perchance — who  might  tell, 
for  Tony  had  said  a  woman's  fancy  jumped 
like  a  cat,- — she  might  even  kiss  him  of  her  own 
accord.  A  reward  like  that  were  worth  a  whole 
year's  labour.  He  was  so  lost  in  his  calcula 
tions  that  he  did  not  hear  William  calling  after 
him  with  the  fruit. 

Judith  was  at  home.  All  the  morning  she 
had  busied  herself  in  one  of  the  cabins,  over 
looking  the  maids  who  were  setting  the  looms 
for  a  piece  of  weaving;  learning  with  them  the 
intricate  pattern  which  Mistress  Falkner,  who 
was  an  adept  in  the  art,  had  laid  out. 


Out  of  a  Vanished  June-Time         281 

"It  is  a  beautiful  work,  so  accurate,  and  yet 
so  easy  to  spoil,"  she  said,  casting  the  shuttle 
to  and  fro,  and  hearkening  to  the  click  of  the 
great  loom.  But  in  the  afternoon  she  grew 
weary,  and  yielding  her  place  to  the  waiting- 
woman,  she  went  slowly  back  to  the  house, 
stopping  on  her  way  to  pluck  a  late  dahlia,  the 
last  flower  of  the  season,  from  the  flower-bed 
along  the  path.  In  its  balminess,  the  day  was 
October  rather  than  the  end  of  November. 
The  leafless  branches  of  the  grove  made  an 
intricate  network  against  the  pale  blue  heavens, 
and  the  gray  and  brown  tones  of  the  landscape 
were  mellowed  by  the  illuminating  haze  in  the 
air.  The  warm  freshness  of  the  day  impressed 
itself  upon  her  and,  leaving  the  doors  open  be 
hind  her  that  the  sunshine  might  flow  in,  she 
went  on  to  the  library.  Laurence  had  but  just 
returned  and  was  standing  by  his  desk  copying 
some  entries  into  his  big  book.  He  looked  up, 
smiling,  as  she  entered,  and  silently  putting 
out  his  left  arm  drew  her  close  to  him,  holding 
her  thus  while  he  finished  his  entries. 

"Weaving  must  be  a  beautiful  occupation," 
he  said,  as  he  put  her  in  an  easy  chair  within 
arm's  reach,  for  there  was  a  glow  of  colour  in 
her  cheeks,  and  the  cream-hued  dahlia  she  had 


282  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

gathered  shone   softly  from  the  folds  of  her 
black  gown,  like  a  star  from  a  storm  cloud. 

"  I  find  it  the  most  interesting  work  I  ever 
did,"  she  answered  with  enthusiasm.  "I  wish 
I  were  strong  enough  to  weave  a  whole  piece 
by  myself.  What  ails  me  that  I  am  so  soon 
tired?" 

"You  are  just  a  bit  lazy,  methinks, "  he 
laughed,  pressing  his  cheek  to  hers. 

"  Well,  'tis  not  the  part  of  gallantry  to  tell  me 
so.  Ann  could  scarce  commend  your  manners 
just  now,  as  apt  at  compliments  as  she  protests 
she  finds  you,"  she  laughed;  and  then  went  on 
to  tell  him  of  the  wonderful  pattern  and  his 
mother's  skill.  "And  now  tell  me  what  you 
have  been  doing  all  day?"  she  asked  in  con 
clusion. 

"That  which  makes  me  infinitely  happy— 
working  for  my  wife."  His  arm  tightened  its 
clasp  a  little;  and  with  an  unusual  gesture  of 
tenderness  she  put  up  her  hand  and  stroked  his 
face.  Never  before  had  they  seemed  so  near 
together,  so  close  to  that  perfect  understanding 
that  binds  with  a  tie  as  inviolable  as  it  is  in 
visible.  Almost  he  thought  the  time  had  come 
when  he  might  ask  the  question  that  rioted 
always  in  his  heart;  might  say  to  her:  "Judith, 
do  you  love  me?"  and  in  her  eyes  read  the 


Out  of  a  Vanished  June-Time          283 

happy  answer  ere  'twas  spoken.  Yes,  that 
golden  hour  came  nearer  every  day,  some 
silent  instinct  told  him  this ;  perhaps  before  the 
sunset  it  would  be  here.  It  needed  only  one 
more  touch  of.  her  hand,  and  the  words  would 
have  leaped  to  his  lips.  But  she  leaned  back 
in  her  chair,  and  presently  he  went  again  to  his 
work,  leaving  her  for  awhile  to  her  own 
thoughts.  The  question  could  wait  another 
half-hour  until  she  was  rested. 

As  she  had  said,  the  exertion  at  the  loom  had 
tired  her,  the  chair-cushion  he  had  put  under 
her  head  was  soft  and  comfortable,  everything 
in  the  room  was  very  still ;  and  so,  never  know 
ing  it,  she  went  from  a  day-dream  into  a  doze, 
bearing  still  on  the  retina  of  her  closed  eyes 
her  husband's  form  as  he  stood  with  his  face 
turned  from  her.  She  had  only  to  put  out  her 
hand  to  touch  him. 

Ten,  perhaps  fifteen  minutes  passed  thus, 
when  she  was  suddenly  aroused  by  the  quick 
barking  of  the  dog  on  the  porch,  and  a  man's 
voice  saying: 

"  Down,  Snap,  down  !  Have  you  forgot  me, 
old  fellow?" 

That  voice ! 

She  sat  bolt  upright,  her  hand  on  her  heart ( 
her  lips  like  ashes.  No,  she  had  not  dreamed 


284  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

it;  there  it  sounded  again;  and  Snap's  attack 
ing  bark  had  turned  to  a  whine  of  recognition. 
And  a  step  was  coming  down  the  hall,  a  step 
that  seemed  echoing  out  of  a  June-time  long 
since  departed.  Straight  toward  the  open 
library  door  it  came,  hurrying  as  to  meet  some 
great  happiness;  quick,  firm,  buoyant,  falling 
on  her  heart  rather  than  on  her  ears.  And  all 
the  while  she  sat  motionless,  unable  to  speak, 
unable  to  turn  her  eyes  from  the  gaping  door — 
and  the  figure  that  appeared  there.  On  the 
threshold  the  new-comer  paused  with  an  eager 
cry  that  made  Laurence  wheel  suddenly  about, 
aware  for  the  first  time  of  the  intrusion.  The 
agonized  horror  in  his  wife's  face  appalled  him. 

"Judith!"  he  cried. 

Then  following  the  direction  of  her  gaze,  his 
eyes  met  those  of  the  visitor,  and  he  stiffened 
suddenly,  as  though  stricken  into  stone. 

"You!"  cried  Judith.  "YOU!"  and  her 
voice  died  away  to  a  sibilant  whisper,  while  her 
eyes  kept  their  horror  as  if  looking  upon  a 
thing  not  of  earth. 

For  the  man  in  the  doorway,  with  his  eager 
eyes,  his  locks  curling  over  his  shoulder,  his 
outstretched  hands,  was  Arthur  Seton. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

DARKNESS. 

"When  the  ship's  gone  down,  I  trow 
We  little  reck  what  other  winds  may  blow." 

— Miss  MULOCH. 

T?OR  one  silent  moment  the  three  in  the 
•*-  library  looked  at  each  other,  one  won 
dering,  one  appalled,  one  despairing;  then 
Seton  took  a  forward  step. 

"Judith,  Judith!  it  is  indeed  I.  What  ails 
you  that  you  have  no  word  of  welcome  for  me  ? ' ' 

Slowly  the  horror  died  out  of  her  eyes ;  it  was 
then  no  wraith  at  which  she  was  looking,  no 
ghost  stepping  out  of  the  buried  past,  but 
Arthur  in  the  flesh.  She  staggered  to  her  feet, 
looking  from  her  husband  to  her  former  lover, 
a  tempest  of  pain  and  uncertainty  sweeping 
over  her  face.  With  a  quick,  protecting  gesture 
Laurence  put  his  arm  about  her,  and  as  though 
glad  of  some  human  touch  she  clung  to  him. 

"  You  have  frightened  her ;  she  is  not  strong,  " 
he  said  to  Arthur,  with  a  sharp  motion  toward 
the  door.  But  the  other  kept  his  place,  staring 
285 


286  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

from  one  to  the  other  in  anger  and  bewilder 
ment.  There  was  something  in  the  way  in 
which  Judith  had  turned  to  Laurence,  some 
nameless  air  of  ownership  in  his  manner  of  hold 
ing  her  that  even  a  casual  eye  must  have  de 
tected.  Arthur's  face  twitched. 

"What  means  this?"  he  cried  passionately. 
"Why  stand  you  two  like  that?  Has  your 
heart,  Judith,  forgot  its  truth  to  me?" 

"  Stop  !"  said  Laurence,  with  stern  authority. 
"You  have  already  startled  her  beyond  her 
strength.  We  stand  thus  together  because — • 
she  is  my  wife." 

"Your— wife!" 

There  was  a  minute  of  intense  silence,  during 
which  they  heard  each  other's  hearts  beat. 
The  eyes  of  the  two  men  were  fastened  upon 
Judith  as  she  steadied  herself  on  her  husband's 
arm.  Then  Arthur  spoke : 

"Judith,  Judith,  this  is  not  true?  Speak  to 
me — tell  me  it  is  but  a  trick,  a  hideous,  d — nable 
jest!" 

"It  is  true;  I  am  his  wife."  Her  voice  was 
low  but  even,  and  her  eyes  met  his  steadily, 
although  there  was  the  suggestion  of  unshed 
tears  in  their  depths. 

A  flash  of  fury  pierced  him ;  his  hands  clinched 
themselves  until  the  palms  were  bruised.  "  So  ! " 


Darkness  287 

fie  cried  angrily,  "  while  I  lay  in  that  vile  prison, 
and  worked  under  that  burning  tropic  sun, 
keeping  myself  alive  with  thoughts  of  you; 
picturing  my  return  as  men  dream  of  entering 
Paradise — while  I  was  doing  this,  you  were 
playing  me  false— 

"  Choose  your  words  more  carefully,  or  be 
silent!"  commanded  Laurence;  but  Seton's 
fury  made  him  deaf  to  all  interruption. 

"You  could  not  keep  faith  with  me,  could 
not  hold  to  the  solemn  pledge  you  made  me  in 
yonder  avenue  when  you  started  me  back  to 
England.  Mayhap  you  had  no  thought  from 
the  first  of  doing  so,  and  meant,  when  you  sent 
me  away  as  you  did,  but  to  rid  yourself  of  me ; — 
jilt  that  you  are  !" 

Laurence  sprang  forward  with  uplifted  arm; 
in  another  moment  he  would  have  struck  him 
or  thrust  him  out ;  but  Judith  laid  a  detaining 
hand  upon  him.  She  stood  erect  now,  without 
any  droop  in  her  shoulders  or  tremble  in  her 
limbs,  and  she  moved  voluntarily  to  her  hus 
band's  side,  not  for  support,  but  because  that 
was  her  rightful  place. 

"  We  pass  your  wild  words  by,  Captain  Seton, 
seeing  that  you  do  not  understand,  and  that  I 
do  not  deserve  your  reproaches,"  she  said, 
with  a  calmness  that  shamed  the  two  men. 


288  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"  Tis  now  more  than  a  year  since  we  had  tid 
ings  of  your  death." 

"But  the  tidings  were  false;  I  was  but 
wounded  and  cast  into  prison,  and  am  but 
recently  escaped. " 

"We  could  not  know  that,"  she  said,  with 
something  like  a  sigh.  "My  brother  sent  the 
news,  saying  he  had  seen  you  fall;  we  could 
but  believe  it,  and — I  sorrowed  for  you  all  the 
winter." 

"All  the  winter?"  his  anger  softened,  there 
was  such  a  catch  in  her  voice  at  the  last  words. 
"Then  when  were — when  were  you  married?" 

Again  Laurence  would  have  interposed,  but 
again  she  pressed  his  arm  to  restrain  him.  It 
was  as  though  she  felt  the  right  of  explanation 
was  hers  alone. 

"  The  first  day  of  this  last  gone  June. " 

"Then,"  he  cried  excitedly,  "you  must 
surely  have  known  that  I  was  still  alive,  for  I 
sent  you  word. " 

She  shook  her  head  slowly,  not  understand 
ing  :  "I  have  had  no  word  from  you  in  all  these 
months." 

He  turned  fiercely  upon  Laurence:  "You 
had  my  letter?"  he  demanded. 

The  crucial  mo.ment  had  come.  It  seemed 
to  Laurence  that  all  the  tides  of  all  the  years 


Darkness  289 

had  set  to  this  one  throbbing  hour.  Here  was 
to  fall  the  test  of  his  truth,  his  courage,  his  all 
of  manhood.  He  knew  that  a  denial  from  him 
would  find  no  one  to  contradict  it  since  the 
secret  was  his  alone;  he  had  but  to  open  his 
lips  with  one  word  of  negation,  and  he  would 
stand  blameless  in  his  wife's  sight,  with  her 
love  yet  a  possibility.  The  voice  of  the 
tempter  was  in  his  ears,  low,  sweet,  insistent. 
But  there  was  no  shirking  in  him  now ;  he  was 
done  with  deception  forever. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  firmly,  although  a  misery 
unutterable  that  Judith  should  thus  hear  his 
confession  tore  his  heart.  "Yes;  I  had  your 
letter " 

He  felt  the  shock  that  shook  Judith,  and 
knew  that  she  moved  a  space  from  him;  and 
his  agony  deepened. 

"  It  was  written  in  January — you  must  have 
had  it  before  you  married  her, "  Seton  went  on 
mercilessly. 

"Yes;  it  came  just  two—  He  stopped; 

his  wife  had  grown  suddenly  so  pale  that  he 
thought  she  would  faint.  He  would  have  caught 
her,  but  with  a  slow  gesture  of  repulsion  she 
waved  him  off  and  took  a  backward  step.  Her 
eyes,  which  before  had  met  his  sorrowfully 
but  kindly,  were  now  full  of  accusation. 


2  go  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

"You — knew  this — when  you  married  me?" 

"Yes." 

"  Knew  that  he  was  alive  and  never  told  me  ? " 

"Wait,  Judith;  wait  and  hear  all— 

"  You  let  me  marry  you  in  ignorance  ?  You 
took  the  whole  matter  out  of  my  hands,  know 
ing  all  you  did,  and  left  me  no  share  in  the  de 
cision  ? ' ' 

"God  help  me,  I  did.  But  listen,  Judith,  in 
mercy  listen  !  I  had  won  you  honestly.  The 
letter  was  long  delayed,  coming  but  two  days 
before  our  marriage,  and  naught  else  had  come 
in  the  meantime,  although  there  had  been 
ample  opportunity.  There  was  good  reason  to 
think  he  had  died  of  prison  fever  after  the 
writing  of  it.  Only  two  days  before  our  wed 
ding,  and  I  was  mad  with  love  of  you !"  His 
voice  was  full  of  a  passionate  appeal;  but  she 
moved  yet  further  from  him,  and  her  face  was 
set  in  its  coldness. 

'  'Nay,  it  was  my  right  to  know,  and  'twas  a 
bitter  falsehood  not  to  tell  me." 

He  hesitated,  his  colour  burning  duskily; 
he  deserved  her  upbraiding,  but  this  other 
man  should  not  gloat  over  his  humiliation. 

"Will  you  wait  for  me  in  the  parlour  across 
the  hall?"  he  said  to  Seton,  with  cold  con- 


Darkness  291 

straint  and  a  motion  of  the  hand  toward  the 
door.  "Judith  and  I  must  speak  alone." 

Seton  looked  at  Judith:  "Is  it  your  wish 
also  that  I  go?"  She  bent  her  head,  and  he 
quitted  the  room,  but  not  with  the  buoyant 
step  that  had  brought  him  there.  Laurence 
watched  him  across  the  hall  and  into  the 
parlour,  then  closed  the  door  and  came  back 
to  Judith,  who  still  stood  steadying  herself 
against  the  high  back  of  the  chair  in  which 
she  had  been  dozing  when  the  tragic  inter 
ruption  came. 

"By  the  coldness  of  your  face,  Judith,  I 
know  that  you  have  already  passed  judgment 
upon  me ;  but  you  shall  at  least  hear  all  there 
is  in  my  favour.  Sit  down." 

When  she  was  seated  he  drew  a  chair  in 
front  of  her  and  sank  heavily  into  it,  and  hid 
his  face  in  his  hands  a  moment  before  beginning : 

"That  I  was  wrong  in  concealing  this  matter 
from  you,  and  that  you  have  just  cause  of 
anger  against  me  I  do  most  freely  confess; 
and  I  would  to  God  I  had  followed  my  first 
intention  and  told  you  everything.  When  the 
letter  came  there  lacked  but  two  days  to  our 
wedding.  I  \vas  stricken  with  fear  as  to  its 
effects  upon  you,  dreading  to  lose  you  as  I 
might  dread  to  lose  my  soul — aye,  that  and 


292  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

more.  And  yet  at  first  I  had  no  other  thought 
than  to  tell  you.  But  your —  He  stopped 

suddenly ;  he  would  not  accuse  the  dead  who 
could  make  no  defence;  to  him  had  come  the 
sweet  profits  of  the  deception,  upon  him  then 
should  rest  the  blame;  to  put  any  part  of  it 
upon  Sir  Thomas  was  to  play  the  coward. 

After  a  moment  he  began  again,  searching 
her  face  for  some  sign  of  softening,  but  finding 
none.  "That  was  my  first  thought — to  tell 
you  everything,  and  leave  the  decision  in 
your  hands.  But  the  letter  wras  written  in 
January,  and  had  been  four  months  upon  the 
way.  In  it  Seton  said  he  would  write  again, 
unless,  indeed,  he  died  of  the  prison  fever 
which  was  claiming  so  many  victims.  Are 
you  listening,  Judith  ?" 

"I  am  listening." 

"Other  vessels  had  come  from  both  Ireland 
and  England  since  the  writing  of  the  letter, 
and  had  brought  no  further  tidings.  The 
Randals  knew  nothing  of  him  from  their 
friends  across  the  sea;  even  his  aunt,  within 
fifty  miles  of  his  prison,  wrote  of  him  as  lost. 
And  so  I,  too,  believed  him  dead — on  my  soul 
I  did  !  You  feel  that  I  am  telling  you  the 
truth?" 

But  she  made  no  sign  nor  motion,  and  her 


Darkness  293 

eyes  lost  none  of  their  cold  accusing.  He  bent 
his  head  with  a  dry  sob ;  God,  to  have  her  doubt 
him  like  that !  But  presently  he  went  on : 

"I  believed  him  dead;  but  I  thought  you 
should  know,  and  so  I  went  down  to  the  boat- 
house  that  afternoon,  two  days  before  our 
marriage,  to  tell  you,  and  you  would  not  let  me. 
You  no  doubt  remember  the  day." 

She  started ;  instantly  she  recalled  the  whole 
of  that  sad  day  when  she  and  his  mother  had 
hovered  about  the  hall,  perplexed  and  sorry 
for  the  business  which  so  annoyed  him. 

"It  was,  then,  this  matter  you  had  in  mind  to 
tell  me  ?  Methought  it  was  the  lost  note." 

"Nay ;  I  told  you  it  touched  not  upon  money ; 
but  you  said  again  that  you  would  none  of  it." 

"Most  truly  I  did,  but  you  knew  full  well 
that  I  was  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  your  tid 
ings,  else  would  I  have  bidden  you  tell  it  all. 
You  must  have  known — oh,  you  must  have 
felt  that  I  would!" 

He  had,  indeed,  but  had  put  the  intuition 
aside  under  the  spell  of  her  sweetness,  quieting 
his  conscience  with  the  sophistry  of  the  tempter. 
He  remembered  how  he  had  called  upon  his 
heart  to  witness  that  he  had  offered  to  tell 
her  and  had  not  been  allowed.  Here  again  she 
had  him  at  a  disadvantage.  He  put  his  hands 


294  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

to  his  face  to  cover  his  pain  and  mortification. 

"This  very  refusal  to  let  you  speak  was  on 
my  part  an  expression  of  trust  in  you;  and 
your  acceptance  of  it  was  a  direct  betrayal  of 
my  confidence." 

"I  deserve  your  reproaches." 

"You  fraudulently  took  me  from  the  man 
whom  I  loved — to  whom  I  was  pledged  !  ' ' 

The  whole  universe  seemed  to  swim  away 
from  him  on  the  ebb  tide  of  her  cruel  words. 
He  put  out  his  hand  fiercely  as  if  to  ward  off 
a  blow;  but  her  own  eyes  were  hidden,  and 
she  did  not  see. 

"Judy,  Judy,  you  have  no  mercy  !  " 

"Had  you  any  mercy  on  me  ?  " 

"But  I  never  stabbed  you  with  words  like 
that." 

"Not  with  words;  no." 

"God  !  how  hard  you  are;  you  do  not  even 
do  me  justice.  I  did  not  wish  to  tell  you,  I 
admit  that ;  but  I  meant  to  and  I  tried  to  in  all 
honesty — and  you  tempted  me  beyond  my 
strength !  Does  my  great  love  count  for 
nothing?  " 

"The  first  principle  of  love,  methinks,  should 
be  truth,"  she  answered,  with  slow  evasion. 

Then  he  began  again  at  the  first  and  went 
over  the  whole  affair,  showing  his  temptation 


Darkness  295 

in  the  strongest  light  possible  without  men 
tioning  Sir  Thomas ;  nor  yet  sparing  himself  as 
to  his  yielding  in  the  end.  He  reminded  her 
how  she  laid  her  finger  over  his  lips  to  silence 
him,  telling  him  again  and  again  that  she 
wanted  none  of  his  sorrowful  secret,  and  bid 
ding  him  talk  to  her  instead  of  pleasant  things— 
of  their  wedding.  Who  might  withstand  temp 
tation  like  to  that  ?  But  in  her  face  was  no 
relenting.  Her  own  truth  was  too  clear  to 
comprehend  this  failure. 

"And  all  these  months  we  have  lived  to 
gether  as  man  and  wife  with  this  cruel  false 
hood  between  us!"  And  the  reproach  of  her 
tone  stabbed  him  like  some  blunt  and  rasping 
weapon. 

"Yes;  and  it  has  been  the  one  shadow  on  my 
heart,  the  one  black  spot  in  my  happiness," 
he  answered,  searching  her  face  wistfully  with 
his  eyes.  She  sat  quite  still  a  few  minutes, 
lost  in  thought ;  then  got  up  wearily  and  started 
for  the  door. 

"In  God's  name,  Judith,"  he  cried  in  de 
spair,  "do  not  leave  me  thus;  say  one  kind 
word — say  that  you  forgive  me ;  that  you  do  not 
blame  me,  knowing  how  I  was  tempted  !" 

She  paused  with  her  hand  upon  the  knob, 
her  face  as  white  as  if  carved  from  marble. 

"What  is  done  cannot  be  undone,"   she  an- 


296  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

swered  with  an  effort;  "it  were  false  to  say  I  do 
not  blame  you,  for  in  truth  I  hold  you  all  to 
blame— 

"But  is  there  no  forgiveness  in  your  heart?" 

"I  could  have  forgiven  almost  anything 
more  readily  than  this  deception  you  practised 
upon  me;  you  used  me  basely,  having  me 
utterly  at  a  disadvantage.  I  could  never  have 
so  used  you.  But,  as  I  said,  what  is  done  can 
not  be  undone;  we  are  man  and  wife,"  she 
stopped  a  moment  and  put  her  hand  to  her 
throat  in  a  helpless  gesture;  "yes,  man  and 
wife;  and  although  my  faith  in  you  is  gone, 
killed  by  this,  your  own  falsehood,  yet  you 
need  not  be  afraid — I  shall  never  forget  that  I 
bear  your  name." 

The  door  opened  and  she  went  down  the  hall 
and  mounted  the  stair  slowly,  painfully,  as 
though  each  step  carried  her  deeper  and  deeper 
into  some  perplexing  gloom.  He  stood  gazing 
after  her,  motionless,  stricken  with  a  misery 
that  numbed  his  senses  and  paralyzed  his 
body. 

Where  now  was  the  answer  to  the  happy 
question  that  had  rioted  in  his  heart  these  long 
days  and  nights?  How  far  away  was  the 
golden  hour  that  awhile  ago  had  seemed  so 
near !  Around  him  instead  were  the  wrecks 
of  his  hopes  and  the  blackness  of  despair. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

• 

MAN    TO    MAN. 

"  So  much  below  my  scorn,  I  could  not  kill  thee  ! " 

— DRYDEN. 

TT  7~HEN  his  aching  gaze  lost  Judith  at  the 
last  turn  of  the  stair,  Laurence  sank 
into  the  chair  she  had  quitted  and  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands.  The  world  had 
suddenly  become  a  desolation ;  the  sight  of  the 
familiar  objects  about  him  was  hateful,  and 
the  bar  of  sunlight  at  his  feet  was  as  a  grinning 
mockery.  Here  in  this  very  room,  sitting  in 
this  very  chair,  he  had  fought  and  won  that 
fierce  battle  with  himself,  only  to  lose  it  again 
under  the  snaring  spell  of  her  gentleness  down 
by  the  water's  hem.  How  sweet  she  had  been 
that  day,  how  irresistibly  yet  ignorantly  she 
had  tempted  him;  and  how  weakly  he  had 
yielded.  And  now  he  had  lost  her;  his  false 
hood  then  and  all  his  after  efforts  to  gain  her 
heart  were  made  of  none  effect  by  this  morn 
ing's  discovery.  Had  he  told  her  when  they 
were  first  married,  had  he  even  spoken  three 
297 


298  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

months  ago  when  everything  was  yet  in  doubt 
so  strong  as  to  appear  a  certainty,  and  while 
Sir  Thomas  was  still  alive  to  share  the  blame 
and  plead  for  him,  she  might  have  been  softened 
and  persuaded.  But  coming  with  such,  a 
shock,  the  gravity  of  the  revelation  had  been 
heightened  a  hundred-fold,  and  there  was  now 
no  hope  for  her  relenting;  for  he  knew  how 
rigid  were  her  ideas  of  truth,  and  how  tena 
ciously  she  held  her  own  life  to  these  lines.  Fool 
that  he  had  been,  living  in  a  fool's  uncertain 
Paradise  ! 

By  and  by  he  remembered  the  man  waiting 
across  the  hall;  his  hard  task  of  explanation 
was  not  yet  finished,  he  must  see  and  dismiss 
Arthur  Seton.  Loving  Judith  as  he  did,  he 
knew  that  he  would  have  killed  the  man  who 
defrauded  him  of  her.  How  Seton  would  act, 
he  did  not  care;  wrhether  there  was  sullen 
acquiescence  or  a  deadly  challenge  waiting  for 
him  he  did  not  stop  to  consider.  Even  the 
humiliation  of  the  coming  interview  with  his 
cheated  rival  did  not  appeal  to  him ;  he  thought 
only  of  Judith's  accusing  eyes  as  he  pushed 
back  his  hair  and  removed  as  far  as  possible 
the  traces  of  anguish  from  his  features,  and 
slowly  crossed  the  hall  to  the  closed  parlour 
door. 


Man  to  Man  299 

Seton  had  entered  the  room  blind  with  rage ; 
but  during  the  half  hour  in  which  he  waited 
he  had  been  groping  for  the  meaning  of  this  un- 
looked  for  blow;  and  gradually,  as  the  ex 
planation  of  it  shaped  itself  in  his  mind,  he 
saw,  in  its  gigantic  proportions,  the  tempta 
tion  that  had  assailed  Laurence.  Men  read 
each  other  readily  and  keenly,  and  he  knew 
that  Laurence  had  spoken  truly  in  all  things; 
that  much  of  justice  he  did  him.  He  divined 
the  escape  that  had  been  open  through  a  de 
nial  of  the  letter,  and  marvelled  that  it  had  not 
been  seized  upon;  that  would  have  been  his 
own  course,  and  a  feeling  of  contempt  came 
for  the  blindness  that  had  blundered  for  sake 
of  the  truth.  That  he  would  have  hidden  the 
letter,  even  as  Laurence  had  done,  he  never 
for  a  moment  denied  to  himself;  but  his  own 
suppositious  guilt  did  not  mitigate  the  guilt 
of  his  rival.  His  nature  was  selfish  and  not 
very  deep,  but  with  all  that  was  best  in  him 
he  had  loved  Judith  Gary,  and  now  he  hated 
the  man  who  had  taken  her  from  him;  and  yet 
in  his  heart  was  acknowledgment  of  an  equal 
weakness.  More  than  once  he  touched  his 
sword,  but  his  first  fierce  anger  gradually  spent 
itself  in  the  long  wait  as  he  tramped  up  and 
down  the  room,  and  finally  when  Laurence 


300  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

opened  the  door  he  sat  beside  the  table  in  a 
grim  silence. 

On  the  threshold  Laurence  paused;  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  enter  the  room  with  that 
other  presence  already  there.  As  his  eyes 
took  in  the  sullen  pose  of  the  man,  a  mute 
scorn  sprang  up  within  him. 

"If  it  suits  you  as  \vell  we  will  walk  in  the 
avenue.  We  will  doubtless  talk  more  freely 
in  the  open  air,"  he  said,  with  cold  courtesy. 

Out  under  the  leafless  branches,  with  the 
wind  in  his  face  and  the  wide  blue  sky  over 
head,  something  of  his  manhood  came  back 
to  him,  and  he  made  his  explanation  with  a 
dignity  that  in  a  measure  saved  his  self  respect. 

"That  is  the  whole  matter,"  he  said,  when 
the  end  was  reached. 

"The  whole  matter  !  "  Arthur  spoke  with  a 
passionate  bitterness.  "You  can  talk  in  that 
quiet  tone  of  this  d — nable  treachery,  you 
deceiver — 

They  were  facing  each  other  with  clenched 
fists,  the  veins  in  their  foreheads  swelling 
purple.  Laurence  regained  his  composure  first. 

"Keep  a  civil  tongue  in  your  head.  I  may 
deserve  all  the  hard  names  you  could  call  me — 
but  you  will  leave  them  unsaid."  The  tone 
was  so  even  as  almost  to  hide  the  command 


Man  to  Man  301 

in  the  words.  It  was  not  his  privilege  to  strike 
the  first  blow;  he  was  the  offender,  not  Seton, 
whose  crime  was  that  he  had  not  died  in  that 
fever-haunted  prison — he  might  not  kill  him 
for  that,  though  in  his  heart  was  hatred  like 
murder.  Presently  he  went  on : 

"I  have  done  you,  whether  knowingly  or 
otherwise,  an  irreparable  wrong;  a  wrong  whose 
penalty  should  be  death,  were  I  in  your  place 
and  you  in  mine.  I  recognize  and  acknowl 
edge  this.  I  make  no  apology,  ask  no  pardon 
or  palliation;  but  I  stand  ready  to  give  you 
satisfaction  with  any  weapons  you  may  name — 
here  and  now,  if  you  wish;  to-morrow  and 
somewhere  else  if  you  prefer." 

"Satisfaction  !"  was  the  bitter  answer.  "What 
satisfaction  is  there  left?" 

"That  is  for  you  to  say."  There  was  no 
passion  in  the  voice,  but  the  lips  curled  scorn 
fully.  A  man  could  love  Judith  and  lose  her, 
and  ask  that  question  ! 

Seton  took  a  few  steps  down  the  avenue, 
then  came  back,  his  features  working  with 
suppressed  fury.  "There  is  no  satisfaction; 
what  you  have  done  is  beyond  repair.  If  I 
killed  you,  as  you  intimate  you  would  kill 
me,  wherein  would  I  be  benefited?  It  is 


302  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Judith  I  want;  and  she  could  not  marry  the 
slayer  of  her  husband." 

"True, ' '  Laurence  replied ;  but  thinking  within 
himself  that  no  matter  what  the  personal  con 
sequences,  to  him  the  killing  would  have  been 
the  one  relief  possible.  Nothing  but  a  human 
life  could  have  wiped  that  wrong  away.  With 
the  man  before  him  it  was  evidently  different. 
He  watched  Arthur  with  an  ever  growing  con 
tempt  that  presently  flashed  into  anger. 

"Since  you  were  alive,  why  did  you  not 
write  again  ?  It  was  in  your  hands  to  prevent 
all  this  sorrow." 

"No,  it  was  not."  The  sudden  hopelessness 
of  the  voice  struck  Laurence,  so  that  his  anger 
cooled,  and  he  listened  with  a  touch  of  pity 
while  the  other  told  his  story:  "I  was  long 
ill  with  the  fever.  When  I  was  somewhat 
recovered  I  found  the  market  woman  had 
been  suspected  by  the  authorities  and  for 
bidden  the  prison.  Then  came  that  inhuman 
order  from  Cromwell  that  certain  of  the  cap 
tives  in  the  Irish  prisons  should  be  transported 
to  the  Barbadoes.  I  was  in  the  list,  and  for 
two  months  I  lived  under  the  scorching  sun 
of  those  islands  labouring  like  a  slave,  scheming 
to  escape,  wearing  my  life  and  strength  out  in 
a  useless  longing.  My  chance  came  at  last. 


Man  to  Man  303 

The  details  are  not  now  necessary.  Suffice 
it  that  I  am  here,  and  that  the  hope  that  had 
kept  the  fire  of  life  burning  in  my  veins  is 
suddenly  quenched.  In  all  the  hours  of  de 
spair  that  visited  me,  the  thought  of  this  thing 
never  came.  It  was  never  a  fear  of  Judith's 
faith,  but  a  doubt  as  to  my  own  return  that 
tortured  me,  making  my  days  and  nights  more 
hideous  than  I  can  tell."  He  stopped  sud 
denly,  choking  with  an  emotion  born  of  self- 
pity,  and  leaning  against  a  tree  covered  his 
face  with  his  hands.  He  could  not  control 
himself,  for  he  suddenly  realized  that  it  was 
under  these  very  branches  that  Judith  had 
given  him  her  promise. 

Laurence  turned  and  watched  a  gull  floating 
lonesomely  against  the  Tyrian  purple  of  the 
sunset.  How  like  his  own  heart  it  seemed— 
lonely  and  weary  and  desolate,  out  there  in  the 
coming  night !  And  yet  he  was  not  the  only 
one  who  suffered ;  without  actual  intent  he  had 
wronged  this  other  man  with  as  deep  a  wrong 
as  may  touch  a  human  life;  surely  much  was 
due  him.  There  was  a  fierce  struggle  in  his 
heart,  and  presently  when  he  spoke  his  voice 
showed  the  strain  through  which  he  was  pass 
ing. 

"I  owe  you  every  reparation  possible.     Since 


304  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

you  will  take  none  with  your  sword,  I  will  tell 
you  this,  if  it  is  any  solace  to  you  to  know  it : 
Judith  shares  your  anger  against  me.  I  have 
found  my  punishment."  It  was  like  rasping 
a  wound  afresh  to  say  this,  but  he  was  not 
considering  himself.  Had  his  eyes  not  been 
still  on  the  floating  gull  he  would  have  seen  the 
exultation,  the  cunning  hope  that  flashed  into 
the  face  of  the  other  man.  Seton  straightened 
himself. 

"It  was  an  unmanly  weakness  into  which  I 
was  betrayed  just  now.  Let  us  go  further 
away  from  this  spot." 

And  so  with  Arthur  telling  again  of  his  suf 
ferings,  of  his  faith  in  Judith  and  his  trust  in 
Laurence  to  deliver  his  message,  they  passed 
on  under  the  interlacing  branches,  unmindful 
of  the  rising  wind  or  the  amber  glory  that 
sifted  from  the  sunset  and  flooded  the  world. 
Yet  mingled  with  the  fierce  anger  and  misery 
in  each  heart  was  something  of  mutual  pity, 
such  a  pity  as  men  will  sometimes  feel  for  an 
adversary  when  temptation  and  suffering  have 
been  beyond  human  strength.  Yet  neither 
could  forgive  the  other  the  destroying  touch 
upon  his  happiness;  for  they  had  both  loved 
the  same  woman,  and  each,  through  the  other, 
had  lost  her. 


Man  to  Man  305 

As  they  neared  the  boat-house  a  negro  was 
pulling  a  canoe  to  the  pier. 

"This  is  my  servant;  he  will  row  you  up 
stream  to  the  Randal's  if  so  you  wish,"  Laurence 
said.  Seton  bowed  assent,  and  Laurence  called 
an  order  to  the  servant. 

"Remember,"  he  said,  coming  back  to  Seton, 
"if  after  further  thought  upon  this  matter  you 
desire  a  meeting  with  me,  you  have  but  to 
name  the  place  and  hour;  as  I  said  before,  I 
shall  hold  myself  in  readiness  to  give  you  all 
the  satisfaction  you  demand." 

A  sudden  spasm  of  fury  contorted  Seton's 
features:  "In  my  heart  I  have  already  killed 
you  twenty  times  !  If  your  real  death  would 
have  righted  matters,  you  would  never  have 
reached  this  spot  alive." 

"For  such  a  feeling  I  have  no  thought  or 
word  of  blame.  My  own  judgment  would 
have  justified  you." 

For  a  moment  they  looked  into  each  other's 
eyes  with  the  savage  instincts  uppermost. 
Laurence  longed  for  the  fight,  longed  for  Seton's 
first  touch  to  open  the  way  for  his  own  re 
lentless  blows.  Saints  of  God,  what  a  relief 
it  would  be  !  In  another  instant  they  would 
have  been  at  each  other's  throats,  with  death 


306  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

in  the  struggle  for  one  or  the  other,  or  may 
hap  for  both.  But  the  voice  of  the  negro 
boatman  called  up  cheerily  that  the  boat  was 
waiting.  Slowly  the  clenched  fists  relaxed, 
the  arms  fell,  the  eyes  lost  their  mad  lights. 
There  was  a  moment  of  irresolution ;  then, 
with  an  almost  imperceptible  salute,  Arthur 
stepped  down  from  the  pier,  and  in  silence 
Laurence  let  him  go. 

As  motionless  as  one  of  the  tree  trunks 
around  him  he  stood,  watching  the  skiff  head 
upstream.  Then  he  saw  Seton,  as  if  stricken 
with  a  sudden  mortal  anguish,  bow  himself 
forward  until  his  head  was  on  his  knees  and  the 
feather  in  his  hat  trailed  dabblingly  over  the 
side  of  the  boat.  The  heart-break  betokened 
by  the  man's  attitude  appealed  to  him  even 
through  his  anger.  Judith  and  the  man 
yonder  owed  their  bitterness  of  spirit  to  his 
hand.  But  for  that  hidden  letter  there  would 
have  been  but  one  broken  life  where  now 
there  were  three. 

Then  a  sense  of  his  own  utter  desolation 
rushed  over  him,  overwhelming  all  things  else. 
He  saw  only  his  ruined  hopes,  his  wrecked  hap 
piness,  his  joyless  fireside ;  and  with  a  groan  he 
sank  down  on  the  boat-house  bench  and  hid  his 


Man  to  Man  307 

face   from  the  transfiguring  light  of  the  bub 
bling  cloud-gold  in  the  west . 

"Would  to  God  he  had  killed  me,  for  I  have 
lost  her — and  death  is  better  than  life  without 
her!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

SNARLING    THE    THREADS. 

"  O  weary  weaver,  the  shuttle  is  dropped, 
And  the  tireless  click  of  the  loom  is  stopped. 
Rest  slim,  white  hand,  and  tear-dimmed  eye, 
For  the  broken  threads  in  a  tangle  lie." 

—  K. 

IpvARKNESS  came  before  Laurence  re- 
-*-^  turned  to  the  house.  The  wind  had 
risen  almost  to  a  gale  and  tossed  the  writh 
ing  branches  of  the  trees  against  the  star- 
studded  sky.  His  teeth  chattered  and  his 
limbs  were  stiff  with  the  increasing  cold,  but 
he  did  not  know  it.  His  mother  sat  at  the 
supper  table  waiting  for  him;  but  Judith  had 
sent  word  she  would  not  be  down.  Leaving 
his  plate  untouched,  he  sat  by  his  mother  and 
told  his  trouble,  hiding  nothing,  not  sparing 
himself,  even  as  he  had  not  spared  himself  to 
his  wife,  but  still  leaving  out  Sir  Thomas's 
name. 

"Arthur  Seton  alive?     He  wrote  you,  and— 
you  hid  it  from  Judith  ! ' ' 

How  the  stern  rule  of  truth  and  justice  to 
308 


Snarling  the  Threads  - 

which  she  had  tried  to  set  his  life  had  been  of 
none  effect !  The  almost  unbelievable  news 
of  Arthur's  return  was  forgotten  in  that  sense 
of  failure.  But  the  mother  in  her  soon  tri 
umphed  over  the  judge,  and  she  was  ready  to 
forgive,  even  to  excuse  him ;  but  she  was  power 
less  to  comfort. 

Longing,  yet  dreading,  to  go  to  Judith, 
Laurence  wandered  from  room  to  room,  wonder 
ing  what  she  would  say  to  him,  asking  himself 
feverishly  how  she  would  meet  him,  recalling 
that  tender  hand-touch  on  his  face  with  a 
longing  that  was  a  burning  agony.  At  last, 
when  the  servants  were  gone  and  his  mother 
had  shut  the  door,  he  went  slowly  to  his  room, 
thinking  of  the  white  face  and  reproachful  eyes 
that  were  waiting  there. 

The  room  was  Hooded  with  ruddy  firelight, 
his  chair  was  drawn  as  usual  to  the  hearth,  a 
cat  purred  on  the  rug;  but  no  one  was  there. 
Judith  was  with  his  mother,  he  thought,  seek 
ing  the  comfort  she  needed;  perchance  his 
mother  would  find  some  softening  word  to  say 
for  him,  something  that  would  quench  the 
stern  accusing  of  those  eyes  that  had  burnt 
down  into  his  heart.  And  he  stood  waiting, 
his  back  to  the  leaping  firelight,  his  face  to  the 
door  through  which  she  must  return.  The 


310  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

minutes  passed,  but  she  did  not  come.  He 
laid  a  fresh  log  on  the  fire  and  waited  again. 
Then  he  lighted  the  candles  and  looked  about 
him,  and  a  subtle  sense  of  change,  of  some 
thing  missing,  took  possession  of  him.  He 
studied  the  room  a  moment. 

Her  work  basket  was  gone  from  its  place  on 
the  table ;  no  shawl  hung  beside  his  coat  on  its 
peg  behind  the  closed  door;  all  the  dainty 
feminine  belongings  were  missing  from  the 
dresser;  only  one  pair  of  slippers  was  by  the 
hearth. 

He  put  his  hand  to  his  head  with  a  sudden 
swinging  dizziness. 

Judith  had  quitted  his  room. 

Again  the  clock  ticked  off  its  slow  minutes 
while  he  stood  staring  before  him.  The  cat 
came  and  rubbed  herself  against  his  legs,  and, 
unheeded,  went  back  to  her  place  on  the  rug; 
the  candles  burned  splutteringly  in  their  silver 
sconces ;  the  fire  died  slowly  to  a  bed  of  glow 
ing  embers;  and  he  did  not  move.  With  this 
fresh  blow,  the  last  vestige  of  hope  crumbled 
from  his  heart,  and  in  its  place  there  came  a 
surging  hatred  of  Arthur  Seton  that  had  its 
root  deep  in  an  old,  aching  jealousy. 

By  and  by  he  roused  himself.  He  must  see 
Judith;  this  room  without  her  was  worse  than 


Snarling  the  Threads  311 

a  dungeon.  The  very  memories  it  held,  tender 
as  they  were,  seemed  suddenly  turned  to 
mockeries.  He  crossed  the  hall  and  opened 
his  mother's  door,  thinking  surely  to  find  the 
two  together;  but  only  Mistress  Falkner's 
prim  figure  sat  before  the  fire.  Without 
speaking  Laurence  closed  the  door,  and  in 
stinctively  mounted  the  stair.  This  time  he 
was  right;  Judith  had  gone  back  to  her  old 
girlhood  room;  from  the  crevice  under  the 
door  was  a  slender  line  of  light,  and  the  key 
hole  was  as  a  tiny  star  there  in  the  dusk. 
Softly  he  knocked ;  there  was  no  answer. 

"Judith!"     But  all  was  still. 

Then  he  tried  the  door;  it  was  locked — 
locked  against  him,  her  husband,  who  fraud 
ulently  took  her  from  the  man  she  loved.  He 
waited,  but  she  did  not  come ;  then  with  a  groan 
he  turned  away.  Had  he  met  Arthur  Seton  at 
that  moment  he  would  have  waited  for  no 
first  blow,  for  no  challenge ;  but  he  would  have 
killed  him,  and  joyed  in  the  death  stroke. 

In  that  quiet  room  Judith  fought  her  own 
battle.  Remembering  all  of  Laurence's  gentle 
ness  and  generosity,  weighing  well  his  love  for 
her,  she  strove  hard  to  be  lenient  in  her  judg 
ment.  But  he  had  wedded  her  wrongfully, 
making  her  false  to  her  own  truth;  and  had 


312  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

been  content  to  let  the  falsehood  lie  between 
them  like  an  imperishable  stain.  That  was 
what  hurt  her — his  untruth,  his  deception. 
But  for  this  she  could  have  put  her  hand  in  his 
and  faced  the  future  fearlessly,  knowing  that 
as  there  \vas  no  wrong,  so  somewhere  and  some 
how  the  crooked  ways  would  all  be  made 
straight.  Her  father?  No,  he  could  not  have 
known ;  his  dislike  of  Seton,  great  as  it  had  been, 
would  still  have  left  him  above  this  cruelty 
to  her.  His  fever- fancies  had  meant  nothing ; 
his  life  had  been  spent  in  soldier-ways,  and 
prisons  and  escapes  were  things  often  in  his 
mind.  Cousin  Janet  was  right,  it  was  but  a 
fancy  born  of  the  fever  and  old  associations. 
He  would  never  have  deliberately  deceived 
her.  Laurence  had  cheated  them  all,  keeping 
his  own  counsel,  choosing  his  own  course. 
Had  not  her  father  said  to  her  that  day  in  the 
hall:  "We  cannot  expect  to  know  all  the  de 
tails  of  his  affairs;"  and  again  that  last  day 
of  his  life:  "Seton  is  dead:  we  all  know  it,  for 
Robert  saw  him  fall."  That  was  proof  of  his 
ignorance,  if  she  needed  proof  after  all  his  long 
devotion  to  her.  And  so  the  blame  revolved 
again  to  Laurence ;  and  she  stood  in  the  shadow 
of  his  wrong-doing.  She  had  long  ago  ceased 
to  think  of  Arthur;  but  now  it  was  his  eyes 


Snarling  the  Threads  313 

that  looked  at  her  from  the  shadows,  eyes  full 
of  accusing  for  her  unkept  troth ;  she  hid  her 
own  with  her  hands  to  shut  away  the  reproach. 
She  heard  Laurence  at  her  door,  but  she  could 
not  rise  to  let  him  in;  and  when  he  had  gone, 
a  quivering  sobbing  came  to  her  for  the  love 
that  had  been  so  near  to  her,  the  answer  she 
had  been  so  nearly  ready  to  give  to  the  call 
his  heart  had  made  to  hers  through  so  many 
days  and  months — the  answer  that  was  but 
his  right  and  due,  except  for  this  false  usage. 

And  far  into  the  night  she  sat  on  the  rug,  her 
arms  about  her  knees,  her  chin  on  her  breast, 
while  on  the  wall  behind,  as  upon  some  mighty 
canvas,  the  leaping  flames  drew  fantastic 
shadows  as  of  a  new  despair. 

In  the  days  that  followed  that  terrible  after 
noon  in  November  a  new  order  of  things  was 
established  at  Rivermead.  Judith  held  to  her 
duties  about  the  house;  watched  the  weavers, 
set  the  maids  their  tasks,  read  her  books,  and 
sewed  with  Mistress  Falkner  in  the  mornings; 
but  in  the  afternoon,  when  her  horse  was 
brought  to  the  door  with  Laurence's,  she  shook 
her  head;  she  did  not  care  to  ride;  and  he 
went  alone.  For  the  first  week  he  tried  con 
stantly  to  soften  her  judgment,  to  win  her 
forgiveness;  no  argument  he  could  bring  to 


314  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

bear  was  neglected;  but  finding  all  efforts 
futile,  he  at  last  abandoned  them  and  resigned 
himself  to  the  bitterness  of  his  fate,  taking  with 
him  everywhere  in  his  changed  face  and  man 
ner  the  traces  of  his  sorrow.  His  mother  was 
torn  between  her  sense  of  justice  and  her 
maternal  affection.  Not  even  in  his  baby 
days  had  she  been  so  tender,  so  solicitous  of  his 
comfort. 

"Since  it  is  past  all  recall,  can  you  not  be 
gentler  with  him,  Judith  ?  It  was  his  love  for 
you  that  made  him  do  this  false  thing." 

"I  never  reproach  him,  never  even  volun 
tarily  mention  the  subject;  but  I  cannot  for 
get,"  she  answered,  without  passion  and  with 
out  yielding. 

Then  the  maternal  instinct  flamed  up  into 
anger,  against  which  the  younger  woman 
was  equally  obdurate;  until  at  last  wiser  self- 
counsel  obtained,  and  Mistress  Falkner  left 
things  to  take  their  own  course  without  inter 
vention  or  suggestion. 

And  the  days  crept  by  like  snails. 

"You  once  said  that  I  taught  you  the  selfish 
ness  of  grief;  I  wish  I  might  also  show  you 
the  cruelty  of  unforgiveness,"  Laurence  said 
one  day  as  he  met  Judith  on  the  way  to  the 


Snarling  the  Threads  315 

weaver's  cabin,  and  she  would  have  passed 
him  with  only  a  word  of  greeting. 

"Nay,  it  is  better  to  need  no  forgiveness," 
she  answered. 

He  winced  under  her  words.  "Is  the  sight 
of  me  so  hateful  to  you,  Judith,  that  you  so 
seldom  turn  your  eyes  upon  me  ?" 

"No,"  she  answered  quickly,  "I  have  no 
feeling  of  that  kind  in  my  heart." 

"If  you  wish  it,  I  will  go  away  for  awhile, 
until  you  grow  used  to  this  tragedy  that  has 
entered  our  lives." 

' '  Where  should  you  go  ?  It  would  all  be 
useless ;  Cousin  Janet  would  be  more  wretched 
than  I  can  tell — and  then  there  would  be  the 
return  in  the  end.  We  are  better  to  face 
things  as  they  are."  And  she  left  him  at 
the  cabin  door,  and  went  to  her  task  with  a 
resolute  smile.  She  had  set  herself  a  new  pat 
tern  of  life,  and  she  would  weave  it  fairly,  even 
as  Cousin  Janet  was  weaving  the  fair  design 
in  many  coloured  wools  upon  her  clicking 
loom. 

Ann  Randal  had  never  been  to  Rivermead 
since  Arthur's  return.  He  had  made  no 
secret  of  the  withheld  letter,  and  it  was  said 
among  the  neighbours  that  she  deeply  re 
sented  the  treatment  Laurence  had  put  upon 


316  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

him.  But  Tony  Foster,  meeting  her  on  the 
road  one  day,  cocked  his  head  to  one  side  and 
said: 

"So  ho  my  pretty  mistress;  you  are  saying 
sharp  things  about  Laurence  Falkner  and 
some  hidden  tidings;  but  how  about  the 
second  letter  that  came  in  that  same  post  ? 
I  smelt  a  rat  that  day;  now,  methinks,  I  be 
gin  to  see  his  tail." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  little  gleam  of 
malice  from  under  her  lowered  lids:  "Smelling 
a  rat,  and  seeing  his  tail  some  six  months  later  ! 
Your  eyes  and  nose  are  both  out  of  accord, 
Master  Spy-and-Pry;  you  had  best  get  some 
old  woman  to  brew  you  a  tea  for  their  treat 
ment." 

"They  are  only  out  of  accord  because  they 
ferret  out  your  secrets." 

"Secrets?  I  have  no  secrets.  So  your 
imagination,  too,  has  an  inflamed  spot — try 
a  poultice  on  it ;  flaxseed  and  mullein  are  draw 
ing  and  soothing." 

"Egad  !  'twould  take  something  stronger  than 
flax  seed  and  mullein  to  draw  the  Devil  out  of 
your  blood,"  he  retorted,  sourly. 

She  laughed  and  rode  on,  too  happy  for 
even  a  make-believe  quarrel  with  sharp- 
tongued  Tony.  It  had  been  a  different  world 


Snarling  the  Threads  317 

to  her  since  that  November  evening  when, 
looking  from  her  window,  she  saw  a  man  coming 
slowly  up  the  river  path.  It  needed  no  second 
glance  to  tell  her  who  it  was.  For  weeks  and 
months  she  had  gone  to  the  settlement  for 
news  of  him,  and  here  he  was  unannounced. 
She  grudged  the  time  it  took  her  to  reach  the 
door,  and  every  step  down  the  long  flight  to  the 
lower  hall ;  and  she  met  him  on  the  porch  with 
open  arms,  crying  out  her  joy  at  his  return 
with  a  vehemence  that  pierced  even  the  apathy 
of  his  wretchedness.  He  had  come  back; 
what  to  her  now  was  the  long  wait,  the  restless 
pining  ?  He  had  come  back,  and  there  was  no 
one  waiting  for  him  at  Rivermead — he  had 
come  back  to  her !  From  that  hour  she  be 
came  his  companion,  his  comforter;  gratifying 
his  anger  by  her  profuse  denunciation  of 
Laurence,  ministering  to  his  wounded  vanity 
by  her  devotion  to  his  mental  needs,  upholding 
him,  comforting  him,  admiring  him;  until  at 
last  she  was  indispensable  to  his  welfare. 

But  pampered  and  flattered  as  he  was  by 
this  new  and  unsought  devotion,  Arthur  could 
not  accept  as  final  his  defeat  at  Rivermead. 
Even  Amos,  quiet  and  plodding  as  he  was, 
looked  at  him  with  a  touch  of  scorn : 

"Do  you  wear  your  sword  for    ornament, 


318  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

that  you  do  not  use  it  to  avenge  the  loss  of  the 
woman  you  love?"  he  asked.  "I  do  not  blame 
Laurence  for  marrying  her;  I,  too,  should  have 
rated  you  as  dead  after  all  those  months ;  but 
I  scarcely  think  that  were  I  the  loser  I  could 
have  kept  my  sword  in  its  sheath  when  I  came 
to  know." 

But  Seton  was  plotting  another  revenge. 
Through  all  of  his  anger  and  mental  distress 
one  insistent  memory  ran — the  confession 
Laurence  had  made  that  Judith  shared  his  own 
resentment.  So  persistently  did  he  dwell  on 
this,  that  by  and  by  the  craving  came  for  some 
manifestation  of  her  sympathy — nay,  of  her 
affection.  If  she  was  angry  with  Laurence, 
then  did  he  not  possess  her  love;  her  heart 
still  kept  its  first  troth.  And  so  it  should 
continue,  he  told  himself,  doggedly;  Laurence 
should  reap  no  further  happiness  from  his 
deception.  Through  Judith's  heart  would  he 
reach  his  revenge,  paying  his  rival  back  in  his 
own  false  coin;  that  would  be  better  than  a 
blood-quittance.  The  result  of  this  resolu 
tion  was  a  letter  which  a  messenger  carried,  un 
der  cover  of  dusk,  to  Judith's  maid,  who  in  her 
turn  hid  it  in  her  apron  until  she  could  put  it 
secretly  into  her  mistress'  hand.  It  was  with 
out  address,  and  Judith  wondered  a  little  as 


Snarling  the  Threads  319 

she  broke  the  yellow  wafer,  thinking  that 
Laurence  had  sent  it ;  but  the  writing  inside 
set  her  pulses  in  a  race.  It  was  an  appeal,  the 
writer  said,  for  justice;  but  she,  reading  the 
passionate  words  with  bated  breath  and  flush 
ing  cheeks  on  the  rug  before  her  fire,  saw 
whither  it  all  tended. 

Her  head  fell  on  her  breast.  So  this  was 
what  he  thought  of  her ;  this  was  what  he  took 
her  to  be — a  despicable  creature  who  could  be 
bound  in  honour  to  one  man,  and  give  her 
thoughts  to  another !  She  had  loved  him  as 
other  women,  the  world  over,  have  loved 
weak  men,  never  seeing  his  failings,  or  seeing 
only  to  condone.  It  is  a  strange  thing,  this 
master-passion  of  the  heart ;  often  it  lets  worth 
go  by  on  the  other  side ;  talent  fails  to  arouse  it, 
and  goodness  finds  and  leaves  it  dormant; 
only  to  the  subtle  touch  of  affinity  will  it 
awaken — affinity,  whether  clad  in  the  purple 
of  principle  or  the  tawdry  trappings  of  a  sham. 
But  sometimes  what  a  touch  has  awakened,  a 
touch  will  destroy. 

After  a  while  Judith  gathered  up  the  letter 
and  read  over  again  the  writer's  arraignment 
of  her  husband,  the  story  of  his  prison  suffer 
ings  and  escape,  his  longing  for  her  through  it 
all,  his  horrible  awakening  to  her  loss;  and  at 


320  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

the  last  his  prayer  for  some  word  of  sympathy, 
some  kindly  token  that  she  had  not  forgotten. 

One  word,  did  he  say?  Ah,  it  would  not 
stop  at  one  word.  For  the  woman  who  set  her 
hand  to  a  plough  like  that,  there  was  indeed 
no  looking  back.  On  and  on  the  furrow  led 
to  misery  unutterable,  perchance  to  guilt. 
And  yet  how  subtly  he  had  written  it  here, 
hiding  the  poison  under  the  pitiful  plea  for 
justice  and  sympathy.  She  hated  the  words, 
and  she  hated  herself  for  reading  them;  and 
in  a  sudden  spasm  of  self-pity  she  bowed  her 
head  upon  her  knees  and  cried  tempestuously. 

Laurence,  haunting  the  upper  hall  as  he 
so  often  did  for  a  chance  to  speak  with  her, 
heard  the  sound  of  her  sobs,  and  could  not 
keep  away  from  the  door.  It  was  ajar,  and  he 
pushed  it  open.  The  sight  of  her  on  the  rug 
abandoned  to  her  grief,  stabbed  him  like  a 
dagger. 

"Judith,  Judith!"  he  cried,  in  his  desperate 
pain.  "For  God's  sake  stop  !  the  pain  of  your 
sobs  kills  me." 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  she  sprang  up, 
throwing  her  long  hair  back  from  her  face. 
Then  for  the  first  time  he  saw  the  letter  in  her 
hand.  Instinct  told  him  its  source,  and  that 


Snarling  the  Threads  321 

demon  of  jealousy  leaped  up  within  him, 
making  his  face  like  granite. 

"So  your  old  lover  writes  you  letters,  does 
he?"  He  tried  not  to  say  the  words,  knowing 
now  little  right  he  had  for  accusation;  but 
they  forced  themselves  from  his  lips. 

She  turned  fully  toward  him,  the  letter  out 
stretched  as  though  she  invited  him  to  read, 
a  storm  of  protest  against  his  insinuation 
surging  through  her.  Then  in  an  instant  a 
change  came;  her  eyes  lost  their  reproach 
and  shone  defiantly;  she  stooped  and  laid 
the  closely  written  pages  on  the  fire,  and  when, 
in  the  increased  light  they  made,  she  faced 
him  again,  his  own  mouth  was  not  harder  in  its 
outlines. 

"You  are  right;  Captain  Seton  wrote  that 
letter — and  no  one  hid  it  from  me." 

She  had  dealt  him  back  his  blow  with  triple 
force,  although  she  had  a  sense  of  self-con 
tempt  as  she  spoke.  She  would  never  tell  him, 
as  had  been  her  first  impulse  when  she  held 
out  the  letter,  that  this  was  the  only  one  she 
had  received,  and  that  no  answer  would  go 
back.  If  he  believed  her  capable  of  a  clandes 
tine  correspondence,  a  denial  from  her  would 
carry  but  little  weight;  she  would  be  doing 
violence  to  her  own  womanhood  to  offer  him 


322  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

a  refutation  of  his  suspicion.  And  so  she  re 
turned  his  gaze  haughtily  and  with  lifted  chin, 
her  eyes  showing'  the  steely  lights  characteris 
tic  of  Sir  Thomas  in  his  fighting  days.  This 
was  a  new  Judith  whom  Laurence  had  never 
seen,  this  defiant  woman  who  faced  him  un 
flinchingly.  Intuitively  he  recognized  the 
force  of  will  that  lay  behind  those  steel-blue 
eyes;  and  his  own  sense  of  guilt  toward  her 
disarmed  all  reproach,  and  stayed  the  sharp 
retort  that  rose  to  his  lips.  He  fraudulently 
took  her  from  the  man  she  loved,  he  repeated 
to  himself,  and  so  she  was  but  returning  him, 
measure  for  measure,  his  own  false  treatment. 
It  was  but  another  form  of  his  punishment. 
That  she  would  answer  the  letter,  he  did  not 
for  an  instant  believe ;  no  amount  of  perfidy  on 
his  part  could  so  warp  her  from  the  truth,  he 
knew;  but  he  had  one  more  grudge  against 
Arthur  Seton.  If  only  the  right  of  challenge 
were  his  !  He  watched  Judith  as  she  bound 
her  hair  into  a  great  shining  plait,  and  then 
stooped  and  stirred  the  gray  ashes  of  the  burned 
letter. 

"You  need  not  have  destroyed  it;  I  had  no 
thought  of  asking  to  see  it,"  he  said,  bitterly. 

"It  is  better  burned;  better  for  us    both," 
she  answered,  without  turning. 


Snarling  the  Threads  323 

And  so  they  parted,  each  with  a  new  bit 
terness  at  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE     BALL     AT     GREENSPRING. 

"  Curious  fool,  be  still; — 
Is  human  love  the  growth  of  human  will  ? " 

— BYRON. 

/CHRISTMAS  came,  and  there  were  wild 
^-^  rumours  abroad  of  Arthur  Seton's 
gaming  at  Sutley's  and  his  quarrels  over 
wine  and  cards.  And  then  somehow  Lissa's 
name  began  to  creep  into  these  stories. 
She  had  no  liking  for  him,  but  in  his  cups  and 
out  of  them  he  talked  of  her  beauty;  and  laid 
a  wager  with  Harry  Beach  concerning  her 
which  made  Tony  shut  up  his  warehouse  and 
go  to  Sutley's  with  his  gun  over  his  shoulder. 
Mistress  Falkner,  hoping  to  set  Judith  against 
him,  told  her  all  these  stories,  but  Laurence 
never  mentioned  his  name.  Another  letter 
had  come  to  her  after  the  one  burned  in  Lau 
rence's  presence;  but  after  that  Arthur  wrote 
no  more,  learning  through  her  silence  that  he 
had  overestimated  his  hold  upon  her. 

Laurence,    with    that     remorse    and    biting 
jealousy  always  in  his  heart,   grew  more  re- 
324 


The  Ball  at  Greenspring  325 

served  each  day.  Not  that  his  manner  to 
wards  Judith  lost  its  gentleness;  she  was  his 
first  care  always,  but  he  never  intruded  upon 
her  in  any  way ;  she  was  as  an  honoured  guest 
in  his  house.  This  much  he  believed  he  owed 
her. 

Judith  felt  keenly  the  change  that  had  come 
into  her  life.  The  isolation  wore  upon  her 
nerves,  and  under  the  strain  her  face  whitened 
day  by  day.  Many  times,  by  both  sun  and 
candle  light,  she  stood  before  her  father's 
picture,  thinking  of  the  comfort  he  would 
have  given  her.  The  young  friends  whom 
Laurence,  hoping  to  divert  her  and  cheer  the 
house,  brought  home  occasionally,  only  taxed 
her.  The  comradeship  she  needed  was  of 
the  heart;  and  from  the  one  person  to  whom 
she  had  a  right  to  look  for  that  she  was  as  an 
alien.  So  she  sewed  her  thoughts  into  her 
embroidery  or  threw  them  with  the  clicking 
shuttle  at  the  loom,  and  waited — for  what 
she  knew  not. 

Tony  Foster  had  been  careful  that  Laurence 
did  not  suffer  from  the  stories  sent  out  from  the 
Randals.  In  his  efforts  at  setting  Laurence 
right  before  the  public  he  was  unconsciously 
aided  by  Amos,  who  had  small  love  for  his 
gay,  idle  kinsman.  And  so  it  was  that  Gover- 


326  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

nor  Berkeley,  hearing  the  true  story,  came 
riding  to  Rivermead  to  bid  them  all  to  his 
New  Year  ball.  But  Judith  shook  her  head, 
pleading  her  recent  bereavement. 

"My  child,"  said  his  Excellency,  laying  his 
hand  on  her  hair,  "your  father  was  my  friend; 
I  loved  him  as  my  own  flesh  and  blood,  and 
I  think  I  am  speaking  as  he  would  when  I  say, 
for  your  own  sake  put  aside  that  feeling  and 
come  to  Greenspring  with  your  husband.  No 
one  will  ever  say  you  are  careless  of  your 
father's  memory;  but,  Judith,  there  are  ma 
licious  tongues  in  all  communities,  and  family 
differences  are  food  for  gossip.  I  shall  expect 
you  with  your  husband." 

So  in  her  bridal  satin  Judith  went  to  the 
Governor's  ball. 

"The  little  Cavalier  is  like  a  picture  for  loveli 
ness  to-night,"  an  old  gossip  remarked.  "I 
thought  'twas  said  she  wras  at  Rivermead 
grieving  herself  to  a  wraith  for  her  first  lover." 

"Young  Mistress  Falkner  sorrows  for  her 
father,  not  for  any  lover,"  said  his  Excellency, 
with  an  emphasis  that  needed  heeding. 

"But  for  all  that,  I  shall  watch  to  see  the 
greeting  she  gives  young  Seton  to-night," 
whispered  the  gossip  to  her  crony. 

Judith,  guessing  the  meaning  of  the  Gover- 


The  Ball  at  Greens pring  327 

nor's  invitation,  was  purposely  full  of  pleasant 
ries,  so  that  others  besides  the  gossip  remarked 
upon  her  humour.  She  laughed  merrily  at 
one  of  Harry  Beach's  stories,  and  even  chal 
lenged  the  Governor  to  a  dance. 

"She  is  not  breaking  her  heart  for  Seton," 
said  one  man. 

"It  is  her  husband's  face  and  not  her  own 
that  is  an  index  of  her  every-day  moods," 
said  another,  with  an  ominous  shake  of  the 
head. 

Standing  in  a  circle  of  friends  at  the  far  end 
of  the  room,  Judith  saw  Ann  Randal  when 
she  entered  with  a  bevy  of  beaux  about 
her.  At  her  side  was  Arthur  Seton,  strikingly 
handsome  in  ivory  satin  with  facings  of  blue. 
Their  entrance  created  quite  a  stir,  so  that 
Judith  drew  back  from  the  circle  unnoticed; 
not  so  far,  however,  but  that  she  heard  the 
gossip  that  went  around. 

"He  must  have  been  uncommon  lucky  at 
Sutley's  of  late  to  plume  himself  like  that," 
said  one  voice. 

"Aye,"  said  another,  "more  than  one  cask 
of  Beach  and  Nelson  tobacco  went  to  pay  for 
that  finery." 

"See  that  bruise  over  his  left  temple,"  said 
a  third,  "He  got  that  in  a  fight  over  a  woman 


328  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

at  Sutley's.  It  was  a  scandalous  affair.  He 
got  hold  of  the  girl's  hand  as  she  poured  his 
wine,  and  was  not  to  let  go  till  she  had  kissed 
him  for  every  finger,  so  he  said.  But  Tony 
Foster  hit  him  with  a  wine  bottle,  and  knocked 
the  senses  and  the  Devil  both  out  of  him  until 
the  girl  got  away.  A  little  more,  and  Tony 
would  have  killed  him." 

"Poor  Lissa  !  'Tis  men  like  Arthur  Seton, 
with  the  fine  grain  of  principle  left  out  of  them, 
that  make  the  world  a  quagmire  for  girls  who 
have  no  protector." 

Judith  moved  farther  away,  for  the  circle 
was  breaking  up,  and  she  did  not  wish  to  seem 
to  have  heard.  But  the  parting  company 
left  her  in  plain  view  of  those  in  the  other  part 
of  the  room,  and  Arthur  Seton  saw  her  for  the 
first  time.  He  dropped  Ann's  hand  from  his  arm 
and  crossed  the  room,  coming  straight  toward 
Judith,  caring  not  if  all  the  world  read  the 
pleasure  in  his  face.  Their  story  was  well 
known,  and  curiosity  was  all  agog  to  see  this 
meeting.  It  seemed  suddenly  as  if  all  the 
lights  in  the  room  were  focussed  on  these  two 
figures  in  shining -satin;  certainly  every  eye 
was  on  them.  Judith  felt  the  concentrated 
gaze,  and  her  teeth  shut  hard. 

"The  meeting  of  old-time  friends  is  as  a  slip 


The  Ball  at  Greenspring  329 

of  light  let  out  of  Paradise,"  he  said;  and  bent 
before  her  until  the  ruffles  of  his  sleeve  swept 
the  floor. 

But  she  did  not  answer.  Under  the  shim 
mering  bodice  her  heart  was  beating  tempestu 
ously.  She  tried  to  see  the  scar  on  his  temple 
and  Lissa  Sutley's  twisting  hand  in  his;  but 
she  saw  only  his  eyes,  the  eyes  that  had  looked 
her  heart  away  in  that  fair  spring-time  of  the 
long  ago — the  eyes  that  had  held  hers  with  a 
beseeching  tenderness  while,  with  her  hands 
crossed  over  her  breast,  she  had  given  him  a 
promise  which  was  broken. 

His  Excellency  moved  impatiently,  and 
gossips  craned  their  necks  to  follow  the  scene. 

It  was  only  a  moment  she  stood  thus,  though 
it  seemed  a  thousand  years;  then  it  was  Sir 
Thomas's  steel-blue  eyes  that  swept  the  circle 
of  guests  and  settled  coldly  on  the  man  before 
her. 

"Will  Mistress  Falkner  do  me  the  honour  to 
dance  with  me?" 

"If  she  does,  she  will  dance  straight  on  to 
the  devil,"  snarled  Tony  Foster  under  his 
breath,  watching  it  all  from  the  hall  door. 

She  ignored  Seton's  extended  hand,  and 
stretched  her  own  out  toward  Laurence:  "I 
am  dancing  with  my  husband,  Captain  Seton." 


330  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

The  whole  room  caught  its  breath,  the  Gov 
ernor  nodded,  and  at  the  other  end  of  the  room 
Ann  Randal  laughed  shrilly. 

On  Laurence's  arm  Judith  went  down  the 
apartment,  bowing  to  a  friend,  smiling  at  his 
Excellency,  stopping  for  a  word  of  greeting 
with  old  Lady  Ludlow;  but  when  at  the  end 
of  the  outer  hall  they  came  to  a  recess  where 
a  sofa  was  hidden  behind  a  curtain,  she  drew 
her  hand  away. 

"Go,"  she  said,  "I  wish  to  be  alone." 

"Alone,  Judith?  Shall  I  not  sit  with  you  a 
moment?" 

"Not  just  yet,"  and  stepping  inside  she 
dropped  the  curtain  between  them.  She  was 
too  angry  with  herself  to  trust  her  voice  in 
conversation. 

Slowly  he  paced  down  the  long,  dim  hall, 
his  mouth  set  hard  with  thinking.  Tony 
roused  him  with  a  touch  on  the  arm. 

"Ah,  but  that  was  a  tidy  bit  of  play  for  a 
woman.  He  thought  to  take  her  from  you 
before  the  whole  company  and  so  put  you  to 
shame;  but  she  outdiced  him  like  a  man." 

"Tony,  will  you  see  that  my  coach  comes  to 
the  door  at  once?"  he  asked,  and  strode  back 
to  the  hidden  recess.  "Judith,"  he  said,  put 
ting  aside  the  curtain;  and  not  the  suppliant, 


The  Ball  at  Greens pring  331 

but  the  master  spoke  in  his  voice,  "the  music 
is  beginning;  we  will  dance  this  once  more, 
dance  the  whole  minuet  out,  where  everybody 
can  see  us ;  then  we  will  go  home." 

She  looked  up,  hesitating;  but  he  stretched 
out  his  hand  with  quiet  authority:  "Come." 
And  dominated  by  his  tone,  she  went. 

In  the  ball  room  she  smiled  again  at  her 
acquaintances,  pinned  a  flower  in  old  Tom 
Nelson's  coat,  and  then  went  swinging  away 
in  the  stately  measures  of  the  dance.  Lady 
Ludlow  clapped  her  hands  with  approval;  and 
Tom  Nelson,  old  beau  that  he  was,  shook  his 
flower  at  the  younger  gallants  and  laughed  with 
gratification. 

"God  bless  you,  my  dear,"  the  Governor  said, 
as  they  paused  a  moment  before  him,  "God 
bless  you;  you  are  your  father's  own  child." 
And  she  laughed  and  kissed  her  hand  to  him, 
so  that  the  gossips  remarked  on  her  coquetry. 

But  at  the  door  she  and  Laurence  left  the 
dancers  and  made  their  way  to  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  where  a  maid  waited  with  Judith's 
cloak.  When  it  was  on  and  the  fastenings 
caught,  Laurence  led  her  through  the  door  the 
servant  opened  on  to  the  veranda.  There 
flaming  pine  torches,  in  huge  metal  sockets, 
made  the  night  like  day;  and  against  a  pillar 


332  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

in  the  red  glare  of  the  flambeaux  stood  Arthur 
Seton  in  his  shimmering  white  satin.  With  an 
almost  imperceptible  salute  they  passed  each 
other;  but  at  the  head  of  the  steps  a  rose, 
loosened  by  the  dance,  slipped  from  Judith's 
hair  to  the  floor.  Instantly  Seton  sprang 
forward  and  snatching  it  up,  looked  up  at  her 
and  lifted  it  daringly  toward  his  lips.  But 
it  did  not  reach  its  destination,  for  Laurence, 
wheeling  suddenly,  struck  it  from  his  hand 
and  with  his  foot  thrust  it  out  into  the  shadow 
of  the  porch.  There  was  an  oath,  a  sound  of 
gritting  teeth,  and  two  swords  leaped  hissingly 
from  their  sheaths,  and  two  men  were  on 
guard.  But  with  a  swift  movement  Judith 
stood  between  them;  her  cloak  dropped  away, 
and  the  torch-light  glowed  over  her  bare 
shoulders  and  gleaming  white  dress,  making 
her  as  a  figure  from  some  rare  painting. 

"Stay !  Put  up  your  swords.  Have  you 
both  so  far  forgot  yourselves  that  you  would 
make  me  common  talk  for  every  wagging 
tongue  in  yonder  ball  room  ?" 

The  men  looked  from  each  other  to  her,  at 
the  fine  pose  of  her  shoulders,  and  the  beauti 
ful,  haughty  face  with  its  eyes  scintillanc 
with  the  same  light  that  glanced  from  their 
blades;  looked,  and  though  their  faces  lost 


The  Ball  at  Greens pring  333 

none  of  the  anger  that  had  flashed  into  them, 
yet  the  swords  went  down  until  their  points 
touched  the  floor. 

"You  are  right,"  Laurence  said,  putting  up 
his  blade;  "I  owe  you  all  apology  for  the  risk 
I  put  upon  you.  Another  time,  Captain 
Seton,  we  will  finish  this.  I  will  play  you  at 
cards  or  dice  at  Sutley's  to-morrow  night. 
Provocation  for  a  quarrel  can  always  be  found 
at  the  gaming  table." 

"I  shall  remember,"  replied  Seton. 

"No,"  said  Judith,  firmly,  her  eyes  blazing 
over  them  both;  "this  matter  ends  here  and 
now.  Whatever  cause  of  quarrel  you  picked, 
and  whenever  it  came  about,  it  would  all  hark 
back  to  me  in  public  gossip.  The  whole  world 
would  see  through  such  a  subterfuge;  and  I 
will  not  be  so  demeaned." 

"Judith,  you  do  not  understand.  The  quar 
rel  shall  be  so  laid  that  no  one  would  connect 
you " 

"That  would  not  be  possible;  no  one  would 
be  deceived  for  a  minute;  and  I  tell  you  now 
that  I  had  rather  you  killed  me  here  between  you 
than  have  me  bandied  about  as  public  gossip. 
No  quarrel  must  be  picked,  no  blow  must  be 
struck  between  you  two  unless  I  myself  am 
the  target,  and  the  blow  is  to  kill ! " 


334  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Seton  bowed.  Laurence  hesitated,  then 
stooping  picked  up  her  cloak,  and  wrapping  it 
about  her  led  her  down  the  steps  in  silence. 
When  he  had  followed  her  into  the  coach  and 
the  door  was  shut,  she  looked  back  to  the 
porch  above  and  saw  Arthur  Seton  still  leaning 
on  his  sword  in  the  crimson  flare  of  the  torches, 
and  at  his  shoulder  Ann  Randal's  startled, 
angry  face. 

In  the  coach  Laurence  drew  her  hood  up 
and  tucked  the  big  bearskin  robe  carefully 
about  her  so  that  no  draught  might  possibly 
touch  her;  then  fell  back  into  his  own  corner 
and  the  long  ride  to  Rivermead  was  made 
in  absolute  silence;  but  there  were  hot  and 
heavy  thoughts  in  the  two  hearts  that  were 
so  near  and  yet  so  far  apart.  There  was  some 
thing  she  wanted  to  say  to  him,  some  assurance 
she  wished  to  give  him,  but  she  could  not  bring 
herself  to  break  through  the  ice  of  that  silence. 
He  knew  she  was  right  about  any  quarrel  be 
tween  him  and  Seton,  saw  clearly  that  since 
Seton  had  waited  so  long  the  fight  must  now 
never  come,  for  evil  tongues  would  say  at 
once  that  he  himself  had  cause  for  his  jealousy. 
His  first  duty  and  thought  must  be  to  shield  her ; 
and  yet  he  felt  balked  of  the  wish  of  his  heart — 
the  wish  to  deal  out  with  fist  or  sword  punish- 


The  Ball  at  Greenspring  335 

ment  for  all  the  torture  this  man  had  made 
him  suffer,  no  matter  where  the  fault  for  it  all 
might  lie. 

In  the  hall  Judith  looked  at  his  white  face. 

"  He  is  a  better  swordsman  than  you,  trained 
as  he  is  to  arms;  he  would  have  killed  you," 
she  said,  with  a  shudder,  her  hand  on  his  arm. 
But  he  shook  off  her  touch. 

"Except  for  the  stain  upon  his  Excellency's 
porch  and  the  interruption  to  the  festivities, 
would  it  have  mattered?"  he  asked,  harshly; 
and  taking  her  candle  lighted  her  up  the  stairs. 
At  the  door  he  put  the  candle  in  her  hand  and 
turned  back. 

"Good  night,"  she  said,  and  her  voice 
faltered. 

"  Good  night,  "  he  answered  over  his  shoulder; 
and  went  heavily  down  the  stairs.  He  was 
thinking,  not  of  the  interrupted  fight,  but  of 
her  eyes  before  those  steely  lights  came  to 
them  as  Arthur  approached  her  in  the  brilliant 
ball-room. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

PIECING  OUT  THE  THREADS  OF  FATE. 

"  The  weaver's  task  speeds  on  apace, 
But  there's  a  rack  in  the  shuttle  race; 
For  chance  hath  mixed  the  web  of  fate — 
A  thread  of  love,  and  a  thread  of  hate." 

— K. 

A  FEW  days  after  the  ball  at  Greenspring 
•*•  *•  Amos  Randal  came  to  Rivermead 
about  his  father's  note.  He  seemed  con 
fused  and  harassed.  There  was  to  be  a 
division  of  the  estate,  he  urged,  and  this  money 
was  necessary  to  a  fair  adjustment.  Some 
thing  definite  must  be  done  at  once,  as  the 
matter  •  had  now  become  urgent.  Mistress 
Falkner  realized  for  the  first  time  that  serious 
trouble  might  result,  and  became  restless;  but 
Laurence  reassured  her  by  sending  a  messenger 
to  fetch  Seth  Perry  to  make  oath  as  to  the 
payment.  In  the  meantime  he  did  all  else 
that  was  possible  to  meet  the  suit  that  Amos 
threatened  to  bring  in  the  March  sitting  of  the 
court. 

"Why  should  it  be  so  suddenly  necessary 

•*>  i  r\ 

o3° 


Piecing  Out  the  Threads  of  Fate         337 

to  make  division  of  the  estate?"  said  Judith, 
wonderingly.  "It  has  been  some  six  years 
since  old  Master  Randal's  death.'' 

1  'Tis  the  quarrel  that  has  fallen  between  the 
families,"  said  Mistress  Falkner,  with  a  glance 
that  was  not  all  kindness. 

"Nay,"  said  Laurence,  hastily,  "it  is  not 
that  at  all,  for  Amos  takes  no  part  in  the  matter 
Six  years  is  time  enough  for  the  winding  up  of 
any  estate.  It  will  all  come  right  for  us,"  he 
added,  presently,  and  his  mother  was  content  to 
think  so. 

"Judith,  it  is  just  possible  that  father  shut 
the  paper  up  in  some  book  he  was  reading;  will 
you  undertake  to  look  through  the  library  for 
me?"  he  asked,  though  in  his  heart  was  more 
a  wish  to  give  her  a  sense  of  helpfulness  than  a 
hope  of  success. 

And  glad  to  think  she  was  of  use,  she  spent 
the  long  snowy  days  of  January  going  over  the 
contents  of  the  bookcases. 

Mistress  Falkner  was  not  much  given  to  visit 
ing,  deeming  that  a  housewife's  place  was  in 
her  pantries  and  by  her  spinning  wheels  and 
looms;  but  one  day  when  the  January  cold 
began  to  moderate,  she  had  William  drive  her 
to  the  settlement  for  some  household  bargain 
ing,  and  afterwards  to  call  upon  several  of  her 


338  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

neighbours.     That  night  she  was  full  of  gossip 
gathered  in  her  rounds. 

"  I  have  heard  marvellous  strange  news  to 
day, "  she  said,  as  the  three  sat  as  usual  about 
the  fire  after  supper;  and  Laurence,  hoping  to 
see  Judith  diverted,  drew  her  on  to  tell  it. 

"There  is  to  be  a  wedding  at  the  Randals' ; 
that  is  why  Amos  must  make  a  settlement. " 

"Truly?"  said  Laurence.  "I  did  not  know 
that  Amos  was  courting. ' ' 

"It  is  not  Amos  at  all — it  is  Ann. " 

"Ann?  And  is  Larry  Herrick  to  be  the 
groom;  or  will  she  reward  Tom  Nelson's  long 
devotion?" 

Mistress  Falkner  stole  a  look  at  Judith  before 
answering:  "It  is  neither  of  them;  but— 
Arthur  Seton. " 

Laurence  had  been  leaning  far  back  against 
the  chimney  jamb,  but  now  the  front  legs  of  his 
chair  struck  the  floor  with  a  snap.  His  eyes 
sought  Judith  and  saw  the  faint  flush  of  sur 
prise  that  crept  into  her  cheek.  She  did  not 
speak,  but  after  one  quick  look  at  Mistress 
Falkner  she  bent  her  head  as  if  counting  the 
stitches  in  her  knitting. 

"Arthur  Seton?"  echoed  Laurence  with  slow 
incredulity.  "This  is  but  some  idle  gossip, 
without  foundation." 


Piecing  Out  the  Threads  of  Fate         339 

"Nay,  it  is  true,"  his  mother  replied,  warm 
ing  to  her  subject.  "The  Randals  themselves 
do  not  deny  it.  Amos  said  at  the  warehouse 
that  it  was  for  Ann  he  wished  the  money.  He 
told  Tony  Foster  that  she  would  marry  her 
cousin,  and  was  demanding  her  part  of  her 
father's  property." 

"I  can  scarcely  believe  it,"  Laurence  said, 
noticing,  with  a  dull  pain,  that  Judith's  needles 
took  no  more  stitches. 

"You  may  believe  it — everybody  else  does. 
Lady  Ludlow  told  me  to-day  of  the  wedding 
gown.  Peggy  Binn  and  her  sempsters  are 
working  day  and  night,  for  the  wedding  is  near 
at  hand.  And  that  is  not  all  I  heard ;  there  is 
something  else  that  touches  us  nearly.  A 
queer  story  of  Ann  is  being  whispered  among 
the  neighbours.  Judith  here  held  you  to  ac 
count  for  not  showing  the  letter  you  had  from 
Arthur  Seton  this  past  June ;  but  it  seems  Ann 
was  equally  to  blame,  equally  a  deceiver,  for 
she  had  a  similar  letter  in  the  same  post. " 

Laurence  breathed  hard;  all  the  sin  of  that 
deception  then  was  not  his.  Involuntarily  he 
leaned  toward  Judith  with  outstretched  hand, 
seeking  something  of  pardon.  But  she  only 
shrank  back  into  her  chair.  She  remembered 


34Q  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

how  roughly  he  had  shaken  off  her  hand  tho 
night  of  the  ball. 

"The  story  is  preposterous,"  he  said  at  last. 
"Ann  had  no  cause  for  secrecy. " 

"Hadn't  she?"  retorted  his  mother.  "Well, 
then,  Tony  Foster  knows  not  what  he  is  talking 
about.  He  gave  her  the  letter  out  of  his  post 
bag,  and  she  went  deadly  white  on  reading  it. 
The  writing  was  like  the  one  you  had;  he  re 
membered  it  very  well.  And  he  says  Ann 
cared  for  her  cousin  from  the  first,  and  was 
determined  that  Judith  should  never  marry 
him;  only  we  were  all  so  blind  we  would  not 
see  it." 

Slowly  Judith  turned  in  her  chair  and  looked 
at  Mistress  Falkner,  the  memory  of  an  old  sus 
picion  stirring  in  her  mind.  Laurence  was 
watching  her  intently.  What  would  she  do  ? 
What  did  that  questioning  light  in  her  eyes 
portend?  But  presently,  as  if  changing  her 
intention,  she  went  back  to  her  knitting  without 
speaking. 

"And  how  has  all  this  come  to  light  after  so 
long  a  time  ? "  he  asked  his  mother. 

"  This  way.  Mistress  Randal  found  the  letter 
in  the  pocket  of  Ann's  habit  she  was  mending, 
and  taxed  her  with  it.  Peggy  Binn  was  in  the 
room  and  told  the  scene  that  followed.  Ann 


Piecing  Out  the  Threads  of  Fate         341 

was  furious,  for  it  seems  she  had  denied  it  to 
Arthur,  and  never  intended  anyone  should 
know  it  !" 

"And  her  mother?" 

"Her  mother  upbraided  her  sternly;  but  she 
excused  her  action  by  saying  she  knew  from 
the  contents  of  her  letter  that  you  had  one  like 
it,  and  never  doubted  but  that  you  had  told 
Judith ;  that  she  came  over  here  that  same  after 
noon  to  give  Judith  joy  of  the  news,  but  was 
convinced  that  you  and  she  were  determined 
to  consummate  your  marriage  and  ignore  any 
possibility  of  Arthur's  being  still  alive.  Every 
thing,  she  said,  pointed  to  that ;  for  neither  of 
you  mentioned  Arthur,  and  Judith  took  her  to 
the  sewing-room  to  see  her  gown;  so  anything 
she  might  have  said  would  have  been  un 
welcome  and  useless,  and  mayhap  have  created 
bad  blood  between  the  families.  She  declared 
she  but  fell  in,  unwillingly,  with  yours  and 
Judith's  plans,  and  did  not  know  until  it  was 
too  late  that  you  had  hidden  your  tidings  from 
Judith.  This  is  the  explanation  she  made  to 
Arthur  Seton  also." 

Again  the  figure  in  the  armchair  stirred 
sharply,  and  again  Laurence  waited  for  her  to 
speak.  But  after  that  one  quick  movement 
she  made  no  further  protest.  She  was  think- 


342  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

ing  fast  and  hard,  going  over  every  detail  of 
Ann's  strange  conduct  during  the  days  just 
preceding  and  following  her  marriage.  Unex 
plained  things  began  to  grow  clear,  misunder 
stood  allusions  shaped  themselves  definitely  in 
her  mind.  She  had  been  the  dupe,  not  of  her 
husband's  duplicity  only,  but  of  her  friend's. 
No  one  had  thought  of  her;  she  had  been 
ground  between  the  upper  and  the  nether  mill 
stones. 

Laurence  quitted  his  chair  and  stood  by  the 
mantel,  looking  down  on  her.  He  would  have 
given  his  right  hand  to  know  of  what  she  was 
thinking.  Was  her  heart  breaking  anew  for 
this  other  man  she  loved  and  from  whom  he 
had  dishonestly  taken  her?  Were  there  tears 
for  Arthur  Seton  under  those  drooping  lids? 
God  !  how  the  thought  stung  him  ! 

"  Peggy  Binn  says  Ann  went  on  her  knees 
to  Arthur,  telling  him  how  she  had  mourned 
for  him  and  waited  and  watched  for  his  return ; 
bidding  him  judge  between  her  loyalty  and 
Judith's.  It  seems  she  had  told  him 
before  he  went  away  that  Judith  would  never 
give  up  being  mistress  of  Rivermead  to  marry 
him." 

"Judith!"  cried  Laurence,  and  in  his  voice 
was  a  refutation  of  Ann's  accusation.  But 


Piecing  Out  the  Threads  of  Fate         343 

she  did  not  take  his  outstretched  hand.  Did 
Ann's  guilt  render  his  less  poignant  ?  No, 
truth  was  truth  under  all  provocation.  But 
directly  she  looked  up,  and  to  his  relief  he  saw 
that  her  eyes  were  quite  dry. 

"You  said  once  that  Ann  did  not  care  for 
you,  that  some  time  you  would  tell  me  whom 
she  loved.  Was  it  Captain  Seton?"  she  asked. 

"Yes;  Tony  was  not  the  only  one  who  read 
her  secret.  She  went  heart-broken  for  him 
under  all  her  laughter." 

"I  would  I  had  known  it." 

"I  always  felt  she  was.  jealous  of  Judy," 
Mistress  Falkner  broke  in,  "but  I  thought  it 
was  on  your  account,  not  Arthur  Seton's — it 
did  not  seem  possible  that  she  was  not  in  love 
with  you." 

He  moved  impatiently.  "  I  always  told  you 
that  was  but  your  foolish  fancy,  mother.  And 
this  strange  marriage,  how  does  it  happen? 
How  is  it  that  Seton  has  brought  himself— 
He  could  not  finish  the  sentence,  could  not  ask 
how  Seton  had  forgotten  Judith  so  soon. 

Mistress  Falkner's  face  took  on  a  new  ex 
pression:  "There  are  many  stories.  When 
a  woman  like  Ann  makes  up  her  mind  to  marry 
a  man  who  lives  in  her  house,  she  generally 
carries  her  point — association  makes  many 


344  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

matches.  Some  folks  say  she  won  him  com 
forting  him  for  Judith;  she  was  that  open  in 
her  welcome  and  her  protestations  that  he  could 
not  but  see  her  love,  and  he  took  it  as  a  salve 
to  his  heart  and  his  vanity.  He  is  not  of  a 
deep  nature,  therefore  it  was  not  hard  for  him 
to  change." 

She  said  this  last  with  a  bitter  sarcasm,  as  if 
to  show  Judith  the  difference  between  this  man 
and  the  one  she  had  married;  but  Judith 
neither  assented  to  nor  contested  the  state 
ment. 

"A  man's  fancy  is  sometimes  caught  on  the 
rebound,  and  Ann  is  pretty  enough  to  please 
anyone.  I  suppose  that  is  the  true  theory," 
said  Laurence,  instinctively  trying  to  soften 
what  he  dreaded  was  a  blow  to  Judith. 

"  But  that  is  not  the  only  theory, "  his  mother 
went  on.  "Tony  Foster  says  Ann  paid  his 
gambling  debts,  and  so  had  a  hold  on  him. 
She  has  a  fine  property,  and  a  beggar  like 
Arthur  Seton  needs  to  feather  his  nest." 

"He  is  not  quite  a  beggar;  he  brought  his 
family  jewels  and  left  them  with  the  Randals 
when  he  went  back  to  England  to  fight  for  the 
king. ' '  It  was  not  as  if  Judith  were  defending 
him,  only  stating  a  fact,  so  entirely  without 
emotion  was  her  voice. 


Piecing  Out  the  Threads  of  Fate          345 

"Yes;  but  he  lost  the  jewels  at  cards  in  a 
single  night.  Harry  Beach  won  the  necklace 
for  his  sweetheart's  Christmas  gift." 

"  Beach  has  the  very  Devil's  hand  at  cards, " 
said  Laurence,  his  elbow  on  the  mantel  and  his 
face  half  hidden  in  the  shadow.  He  had  heard 
the  story,  and  how  old  Sutley,  drunker  than 
usual,  had  once  more  used  his  daughter  as  a 
pawn  and  staked  her  against  some  of  the 
shining  baubles,  and  lost.  Also  how  Tony  had 
struck  the  winner  in  the  face  amid  the  flashing 
of  steel  and  the  crack  of  pistols ;  and  then  had 
shut  the  girl  in  his  warehouse,  and  sat  all  night 
in  front  of  the  door  with  his  cocked  gun,  daring 
Seton  to  try  to  claim  the  payment  of  his  debt. 
There  had  been  a  wild  time  in  the  settlement 
that  night,  as  the  bloodstains  and  bullet  marks 
in  Sutley 's  cabin  could  attest.  Murder  had 
stood  very  near  that  card  table,  and  death  had 
waited  on  the  warehouse  steps.  It  was  the 
same  old  story  of  a  night  at  Sutley's,  told  in 
blacker  characters  than  usual. 

The  maple  log  on  the  hearth  crackled  and 
sent  its  sparks  up  the  wide  chimney  throat 
while  Mistress  Falkner  talked  on  of  the  wedding 
and  Judith  asked  a  few  questions  as  to  the 
preparations. 

"It  is  hinted  in  some  quarters  that  Amos  is 


346  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

urging  the  marriage,  Seeing  it  is  best,  with  all 
the  talk  there  is." 

Laurence  stretched  his  hand  protectingiy 
over  Judith's  head:  "Nay,  mother,  Ann  has 
been  our  guest  and  friend;  we  know  she  would 
do  no  wrong. " 

"I  hold  with  you;  I  have  known  her  all  her 
life,  and  seen  naught  in  her  worse  than  quick 
temper  and  thoughtlessness.  I  was  but  telling 
all  the  gossip." 

"And  when  is  the  wedding  to  be  ?" 

"This  day  wreek — the  twenty-eighth;  and 
they  are  to  go  down  the  river  to  Ann's  planta 
tion  to  live.  I  am  glad  they  will  not  be  our 
neighbours. " 

Laurence  turned  and  with  both  arms  on  the 
mantel  bowed  his  head  on  them.  There  was  a 
fierce  struggle  within  him,  joy  over  Seton's 
removal  from  his  path,  and  dread  of  any  new 
pang  that  might  come  to  Judith  through  this 
matter.  Her  eyes  were  unwet  and  her  hand  was 
steady  on  her  needle,  but  that  might  mean 
nothing.  If  only  he  knew  she  did  not  care  ! 
His  mother,  noting  the  forlornness  of  his  atti 
tude,  wondered  how  Judith  could  steel  her 
heart  against  him.  But  Judith  did  not  see  him ; 
she  was  retracing  step  by  step  all  of  Ann's 
restless  changes  from  laughter  to  tears,  tears 


Piecing  Out  the  Threads  of  Fate         347 

that  she  had  thought  were  for  Laurence.  She 
had  had  a  sense  of  culpability,  of  self-reproach, 
feeling  that  she  had  come  between  Ann  and 
what  might  have  been  her  happiness;  and 
instead,  it  was  Ann  who  had  helped  to 
defraud  her  of  the  knowledge  that  was 
hers  by  right.  And  yet  what  a  compassion 
she  had  for  her  old  friend,  realizing  the  cause 
of  those  long  rides  to  the  station,  and  all  the 
pain  of  uncertainty  and  longing  that  must  have 
underlined  that  restlessness.  She  had  but  to 
shut  her  eyes  to  see  Ann  prostrate  beside  her 
couch,  storm-swept  by  her  sobs;  and  she  heard 
again,  as  clearly  as  though  the  words  were 
spoken  in  her  ear,  that  upbraiding  cry:  "You 
sent  him  away.  If  it  had  not  been  for  you  he 
would  be  here  now,  alive  and  warm  and  real; 
instead  of  lying  over  yonder  cold  and  dead  and 
lost  forever  ! ' '  How  the  girl  must  have  hated 
her  that  day.  This  rumoured  marriage  had  in 
it  all  the  elements  of  a  tragedy.  That  Arthur 
could  take  Ann  for  sake  of  her  estate  was  a 
sacrilege ;  that  he  was  talking  to  Ann  of  marriage 
while  he  poured  out  his  heartache  to  her  in 
those  letters  seemed  equally  incredible  for  the 
double  dealing  it  portended.  And  that  gossip 
about  Lissa  Sutley?  He  had  not  meant  to 
marry  her,  of  course ;  but  how  it  showed  the  lack 


348  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

of  fairness  in  his  nature.  Was  there  any  truth 
left  in  anybody?  What  a  horrible  tangle  had 
been  made  for  four  lives ;  and  how  much  better 
Laurence  showed  in  it  than  Seton  ! 

She  picked  up  her  knitting  and  began  in 
dustriously  to  count  the  stitches,  whispering 
them  to  herself — one,  two,  three;  one,  two, 
three ;  to  turn  and  dominate  her  thoughts. 

Mistress  Falkner  pushed  her  chair  back  with 
a  slow  dissatisfaction.  She  had  told  her  news 
with  the  hope  that  these  two  might  be  drawn 
together  again ;  and  here  they  were  as  far  apart 
as  before.  The  continued  silence  irritated  her, 
so  that  after  awhile  she  began  again  to  talk, 
telling  bits  of  gossip  that  seemed  colourless 
enough  after  her  first  revelation.  Among  these 
things  was  the  report  of  a  murder  that  had 
been  committed  on  one  of  the  upper  planta 
tions.  The  man  lived  alone  with  his  Indian 
servant.  His  body  had  been  found  frightfully 
mutilated,  and  the  Indian  was  gone;  so  were 
the  man's  gun  and  money.  Judith  shivered 
as  she  pictured  the  mangled  body  on  the  cabin 
floor  and  Laurence,  seeing  this,  changed  the 
subject.  Soon  afterwards  a  servant  called 
him  from  the  room,  and  the  two  women  were 
left  alone.  Mistress  Falkner  tried  to  revive 
the  subject  of  the  wedding;  but  Judith  was  dull 


Piecing  Out  the  Threads  of  Fate          349 

company;  the  unusual  exertions  of  the  visiting 
had  been  wearying,  and  presently  the  older 
woman  dozed  in  her  chair.  Judith's  needles 
flew  on  awhile,  under  the  insistent  counting. 
But  finally  she  got  up  softly  and  left  the  room. 
Lighting  her  candle  at  the  hall  table,  she  went 
slowly  up  the  stair.  It  was  cold  and  draughty 
and,  outside  the  ring  of  candle-light,  intensely 
dark;  and  her  nerves  wrere  on  edge  from  the 
evening's  talk.  Before  she  reached  the  top 
step  she  heard,  down  the  dusky  corridor,  the 
tap,  tap  of  Charles  Falkner's  stick.  She  felt 
herself  tremble,  but  she  went  resolutely  on, 
the  thread  of  light  under  her  door  seeming 
miles  away  in  the  blackness.  A  few  steps  from 
the  stair-head  a  gust  of  wind  caught  the  flame 
of  her  candle  and  whisked  it  out ;  and  clear  and 
insistent  came  that  ominous  sound.  A  cold 
shudder,  against  which  she  vainly  strove, 
passed  over  her ;  and  then  her  eyes  dilated  with 
horror,  for  in  the  gloom  down  the  corridor 
something  was  moving,  coming  toward  her. 
She  felt  rather  than  saw  it,  and  for  one  awful 
moment  she  stood  as  if  petrified,  yet  still  trying 
to  reason  with  herself.  Then  the  candle  clat 
tered  to  the  floor,  and  with  a  smothered  scream 
she  fled  down  the  hall  toward  her  own  door. 
But  just  as  her  hand  was  on  the  knob,  two 


350  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

strong  arms  caught  her  fast,  and  Laurence's 
voice  cried  in  her  ear. 

"It  is  I,  Judy,  I !—  There,  do  not  trem 
ble;  you  are  safe.  I  had  been  to  fasten  the 
rear  door,  and  did  not  know  you  were  here. " 

She  was  clinging  to  him  in  her  terror,  hiding 
her  face  in  his  coat.  Ah,  how  sweet  it  was  to 
hold  her  once  more  in  his  arms,  to  feel  her  head 
upon  his  breast !  He  drew  her  closer,  his  lips 
touched  her  hair. 

"My  heart's  love,  you  are  safe; no  harm  can 
come  to  you  here."  lie  reached  out  with  one 
hand  and  threw  open  her  door,  before  which 
they  were  standing.  The  firelight  rushed  out 
and  over  them  in  a  ruddy  flood,  and  in  the  warm 
glow  she  caught  her  breath  in  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"You  poor,  frightened  bird!  Someone  has 
been  telling  you  that  foolish  ghost  story,"  he 
said,  his  lips  again  on  her  hair. 

But  she  was  putting  his  arms  away:  "  Nay,  " 
she  said,  "it  was  only  a  silly  case  of  nerves,  of 
which  I  am  ashamed.  I  am  quite  over  it  now.  " 

He  strove  to  keep  her:  "But,  sweet  one, 
see  how  you  still  tremble;  it  was  a  shame  to 
frighten  you  like  this."  But  she  drew  away 
until  he  held  only  one  of  her  slim  hands.  "  The 
evening  has  been  too  much  for  you,"  he  said, 
tenderly.  "  I — am  sorry  for  the  shock— 


Piecing  Out  the  Threads  of  Fate          351 

"  It  was  the  murder  story  Cousin  Janet  told 
us,"  she  answered,  hastily.  "It  was  childish 
of  me  to  allow  it  to  so  upset  me.  " 

He  put  her  hand  softly  to  his  lips:  "And 
someone  has  told  you  that  absurd  story  of  my 
father  and  his  fruitless  search?" 

"Yes,  but  it  does  not  matter  now."  She 
took  her  hand  from  his  and  moved  over  the 
threshold.  "Good-night,"  she  said. 

His  eyes  travelled  past  her  to  the  fire-lit  room 
beyond,  taking  in  at  a  hungry  glance  her  work 
basket,  the  low  chair  and  its  foot-stool,  and 
all  the  dainty  feminine  belongings  that  he  had 
come  to  know  and  missed  so  sorely. 

"Judy,"  he  cried,  stretching  out  his  arms, 
"  will  you  not — will  you  not  ask  me  to — come 
in  with  you?" 

She  looked  up  startled,  and  reached  instantly 
for  the  knob  as  if  to  bar  his  way.  The  gesture 
struck  like  ice  to  his  heart:  "Nay,"  she  said, 
"I  am  no  longer  frightened,  and  I  am  best 
alone. " 

The  door  was  closing  between  them,  leaving 
him  out  in  the  dark.  "  Judith  ! "  and  there  was 
a  note  of  desperation  in  his  voice,  "  why  should 
you  any  longer  cherish  Arthur  Seton  in  your 
thoughts  ?  He  does  not  care ;  he  is  going  to 


352  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

marry  Ann.  Put  him  out  of  your  heart,  and 
take  me,  your  husband,  into  it !" 

She  stood  quite  still,  a  white  flame  of  anger 
leaping  through  her;  he  could  not  then  under 
stand  that  it  was  his  manner  of  marrying  her 
that  stood  between  them;  like  Arthur,  he 
deemed  her  capable  of  Iving  in  a  love-dream 
with  one  man  while  she  bore  another  man's 
name. 

"You  are  quite  mistaken  if  you  think  my 
heart  has  an  occupant.  Between  your  usage 
of  me  and  my  duty  to  my  womanhood,  it  is 
empty — empty!"  she  said,  and  closed  the 
door  between  them. 

In  the  terrible  silence  he  heard  the  key  turn 
in  the  lock,  and  knew  that  he  was  doubly  shut 
out. 

"Good-night,"  he  said,  his  mouth  close  to 
the  keyhole;  "my  deception  of  you  is  no  more 
a  crime  than  your  cruelty  to  me.  We  stand 
much  on  the  same  plane. " 

But  all  was  silent  in  the  fire-lit  room. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

TONY    WINS    HIS    HEART'S    DESIRE. 

"  Hold  closer  still  my  hand,  dear  love, 

Nor  fear  its  touch  will  soil  thine  own; 
No  palm  is  cleaner  now  than  this, 

So  free  from  world-stain  has  it  grown." 

— ANON. 

A  DARKER  frown  than  usual  wrinkled  Tony 
•*•  Foster's  brow  during  those  last  days 
in  January,  for  Larry  Herrick  had  come 
back  from  Henrico  to  witness  the  Randal  wed 
ding,  and  the  gold  in  his  purse  made  Sutley 
forget  the  past  and  open  his  doors  to  him. 
With  him  and  Arthur  Seton  to  set  the  pace  and 
Harry  Beach  to  follow,  there  were  uncanny 
scenes  in  the  room  under  Lissa's  loft.  The 
white  dawn  often  found  the  dice  still  rattling; 
and  looking  down  through  the  chinks  of  her 
floor  upon  the  high  stakes,  and  hearing  the 
boasts  and  threats  and  ribald  jests  that  echoed 
up  to  her,  the  girl  shuddered.  Money  and 
jewels  passed  from  one  hand  to  another;  the 
ownership  of  slaves  was  changed  by  the  colour 
of  a  card ;  and  a  plantation  was  lost  on  one  cast 
353 


354  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

of  the  dice.  And  on  such  nights  as  these  it  was 
all  in  vain  that  her  father  summoned  her,  and 
the  long,  sweet  notes  of  the  reed  whistle  called 
plaintively  to  her  light-moving  feet.  For  the 
farmers,  for  the  sailors  from  the  trading  ships, 
for  the  gay  young  gallants  from  the  upper 
plantations,  even  for  Harry  Beach  she  would 
dance,  and  collect  the  coins  in  her  tambourine 
and  sip  like  a  bee  from  their  brimming  glasses, 
while  they  shouted  their  applause.  But  never 
again  would  she  dance  a  step  or  pour  a  thimble 
of  wine  for  Seton  or  Larry;  for  she  had  prom 
ised  Tony,  with  her  hand  on  the  trigger  of  his 
gun ;  and  for  all  her  lack  of  other  training  she 
knew  how  to  keep  an  oath.  But  Tony  knew  that 
at  every  chance  behind  his  back  Larry  was  dog 
ging  her  with  new  protestations  and  flatteries; 
and  the  heart  within  him  was  not  satisfied. 

"There  will  be  high  play  to-night,  "  she  said 
one  afternoon,  standing  by  his  high  desk. 
"Harry  Beach  will  bring  the  jewels  back  for 
Arthur  Seton  to  look  at,  and  they  mean  to 
entice  him  to  stake  them,  and  so  win  them  all. 
And  dad  says  if  I  do  not  dance  and  make  things 
merry,  he  will  beat  me." 

"You  have  promised,  Lissa." 

"Yes,  Tony;  but — his  fists  are  so  hard." 
There  was  a  pitiful  sob  in  the  girl's  voice,  and 


Tony  Wins  His  Heart's  Desire          355 

she  impulsively  bared  her  arm  and  laid  it 
across  his  desk,  showing  a  great,  dark  bruise 
above  the  elbow.  In  an  instant  the  scar  on 
Tony's  forehead  was  livid. 

"  When  did  he  do  that  ?" 

"Last  week — the  night  they  played  so  late, 
and  I  would  not  come  down. " 

"You  never  told  me!" 

"  No;  he  made  such  threats  against  you. " 

"Curse  him  !"  Tony  laid  his  cheek  against 
the  soft,  brown  arm,  scar  touching  scar;  and 
for  a  moment  there  was  silence.  "There  is 
just  one  way  to  escape  it,  Lissa. "  And  his 
voice  was  full  of  a  queer  shyness. 

"One  way?" 

"Yes.     Do  you — understand?" 

"Yes,"  she  said  slowly,  and  read  his  mean 
ing  in  his  eyes,  and  went  away  with  a  new 
wonder  in  her  heart. 

That  night  at  Sutley's  it  was  a  rehearsal  of 
the  same  old  scene  of  men  with  exultant  or 
slowly  whitening  faces  about  the  tables,  of 
curses  and  jeers  and  jests,  with  calls  for  wine, 
and  here  and  there  a  song ;  mayhap  a  rollicking 
drinking  rhyme,  mayhap  a  cradle  hymn  that 
blossomed  white  on  the  fetid  air  and  made  the 
hands  of  the  players  unsteady  with  fleeting 
memories. 


356  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Larry,  watching  Lissa  from  the  corner  of  his 
eye,  lost  heavily,  but  the  fates  were  with 
Arthur,  and  he  won  again  the  necklace  he  had 
lost  to  Beach,  his  mother's  mother's  necklace 
which  Ann  would  wear  at  her  bridal  to-morrow, 
if  so  he  lost  it  not  again  before  the  dawn.  But 
when  the  wine  and  the  game  began  to  make  a 
fever  in  the  men's  blood,  Lissa  climbed  up  into 
her  garret;  and  Tony,  with  his  gun  over  his 
knees,  sat  on  the  lowest  round  of  the  ladder  and 
smoked  and  smoked. 

"Let  her  be,  Sutley;  let  her  be,"  he  said, 
when  her  father  would  have  fetched  her  to  fill 
the  tankards.  "  She'll  not  be  down  again  to 
night — and  come  not  so  near  my  gun,  man;  it 
might  perchance  go  off,  by  accident,  and  there'd 
be  blood-letting  without  a  leech." 

And  there  he  sat,  unmoved  by  either  threats 
or  cajolery  until  the  east  was  gray  and  the  last 
gamester  had  gone.  Then,  seeing  Sutley  nod 
ding  by  the  fire,  and  knowing  it  would  be  far 
into  the  day  before  he  roused,  he  went  softly 
out  of  the  door,  pushing  the  latch-string  back 
through  its  hole,  lest  some  reveller  return  and 
find  entrance. 

That  night  Ann  Randal's  wedding  came  off 
with  great  feasting  and  dancing;  and  if  there 


Tony  Wins  His  Heart's  Desire         357 

were   thorns   among  her  bridal  roses   no   one 
guessed  it,  for  her  black  eyes  told  no  tales. 

And  while  the  feasting  went  on,  Tony  sat 
with  Lissa  at  one  of  Sutley's  deserted  tables,  lit 
by  a  tallow  dip  in  an  empty  wine  bottle,  and  won, 
without  cut  of  cards  or  throw  of  dice,  the  stake  his 
soul,  under  the  show  of  carping  indifference,  had 
long  jealously  coveted.  The  following  morn 
ing  he  appeared  at  Rivermead  in  his  best  clothes 
and  with  a  flower  in  his  coat.  Laurence  thought 
he  had  come  to  tell  of  the  wedding;  but  he 
scoffingly  declared  he  had  not  been  there. 

"Think  you  I  would  go  to  Arthur  Seton's 
wedding?  No.  I  have  not  forgotten  the 
devilish  laugh  with  which  he  turned  the  dice 
from  the  box  and,  leaning  over  the  table,  told 
Sutley  he  had  won  Lissa.  By  the  Devil's  pitch 
fork,  but  I  was  near  to  killing  him  !  Only  the 
girl  herself  saved  him.  Ah,  but  she  was  grand 
as  she  got  me  about  the  neck  with  one  arm  and 
pointed  Seton  out  of  the  door  with  the  other  ! 
Even  Sutley  was  silenced." 

"The  killing  would  have  been  justified," 
Laurence  answered,  for  Judith  was  not  present. 
"All  that  is  best  in  Lissa  she  owes  to  you  and 
the  protection  you  have  given  her.  " 

A  sudden  moisture  came  to  Tony's  eyes: 
"A  girl  with  a  father  like  that  needs  a — hus- 


358  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

band  who  is  never  afraid.  Laurence,  I've 
come  here  to  ask,  for  you  should  know,  since 
you  are  straight  and  handsome  and  women  have 
cared  about  you,  do  you  think  a  young,  light- 
hearted  thing  like  Lissa  would — would  stand 
any  show  for  happiness  with  a  fellow  like  me  ? ' ' 

"Tony!" 

"  Oh,  I  know  I'm  near  to  twice  her  age — she 
was  seventeen  at  Michaelmas — and  I'm  not 
much  as  to  money,  and  nothing  at  all  to  look 
at — with  this  Devil's  mark  on  my  forehead  and 
my  crooked  leg.  But  I'd  be  good  to  her, 
Laurence ;  she  knows  it ;  and  there'd  be  an  end 
of  this  life  she  leads  at  the  gaming  house.  " 

"You  have  told  Lissa  all  this?" 

"Yes;  we  talked  it  over  yesterday  afternoon 
when  she  brought  her  sewing  to  my  desk,  and 
again  last  night  in  her  father's  cabin.  She 
made  faces  at  me  at  first  and  laughed,  the 
teasing  jade  !  but  when  she  thought  of  how  her 
dad  was  always  using  her,  beating  her  when  my 
back  was  turned  or  using  her  as  a  pawn  at  his 
tables;  and  how,  if  she  came  to  me  there'd  be 
no  more  blows  and  no  more  fine  gentlemen  to  be 
asking  her,  with  courtly  bows  and  smiles,  to 
enter  the  gates  of  perdition — when  she  had 
thought  of  all  this,  she  said  she  was  willing. " 

In  his   waiting  glance  there   was   a   pitiful 


Tony  Wins  His  Heart's  Desire         359 

questioning ;  his  hands  trembled  and  he  wet  his 
dry  lips  with  his  tongue.  Laurence  looked  at 
him  a  long  minute  before  speaking. 

"You  have  thought,  Tony,  of  how  Lissa  has 
been  raised?" 

"  Yes,  seeing  I've  done  part  of  it  myself.  She 
had  no  mother,  only  a  drunken  daddy  who  was 
willing  to  sell  her  to  the  highest  bidder  for  sake 
of  his  own  miserable  comfort.  A  girl  like  that 
has  no  chance  to  keep  the  tail  of  her  gown 
always  out  of  the  filth  of  the  world ;  but  Lissa 
has  tried;  and  her  heart  is  white. " 

Laurence  laid  his  hand  on  the  other's  shoul 
der:  "I  believe  Lissa  has  tried,  and  that  in 
spite  of  all  the  temptations  that  have  beset  her, 
she  has  done  her  best,  and  lived  better  than 
many  of  her  censurers  would  have  done  under 
like  circumstances.  But,  Tony,  a  man's  wife, 
the  mother  of  his  children,  should — should — 

"Should  be  out  of  the  reach  of  evil  tongues. 
Yes,  I  know;  but  I  am  not  afraid,  for  I  do  not 
limp  in  my  fists,"  he  said,  significantly,  lifting 
one  of  his  powerful  hands  with  unmistakable 
meaning.  "  Besides,  I  have  not  been  any  saint 
myself — though  God  knows  I  never  destroyed 
an  innocent  girl.  I  toe  a  pretty  straight  row 
now,  but  it  was  not  always  so,"  he  went  on 
eagerly,  as  if  glad  of  the  blots  upon  his  life  that 


360  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

by  contrast  Lissa  might  be  the  whiter.  "I 
got  this  scar  on  my  forehead  cheating  at  cards, 
and  my  shoulder  was  shot  to  pieces  in  a  fight 
over  a  woman  in  a  dance-room.  Oh,  Lissa  is  a 
thousand  times  better  than  I,  because  not  only 
the  outside  world,  but  her  own  father  was 
against  her,  instead  of  standing  up  for  her  as 
a  father  should." 

"It  would  be  a  bad  woman  indeed,  Tony, 
who  was  not  better  than  the  man  she  married.  " 

"Then  men  have  no  business  being  so  d — n 
choice  !" 

Laurence  did  not  answer;  where  was  the  use 
of  arguing  against  a  cruelty  which,  rooted  deep 
in  the  old-world  injustice  that  might  makes 
right,  has  come  to  be  a  fixed  law  of  society. 
Begin  where  the  reformer  will,  say  what  he 
may,  it  always  comes  back  to  the  fact  that 
woman  must  keep  herself  unspotted,  yet  be 
content  to  wed  with  impurity.  It  is  too  stub 
born  a  fact  to  compass  with  argument,  too  old 
a  wrong  to  combat  with  logic. 

After  a  little  silence  Laurence  said:  "Does 
Lissa  fully  realize  the  difference  in  your  ages  ?" 

"Yes;  I  have  deceived  her  in  no  way;  I  told 
her  my  age,  how  much  money  I  had,  and  the 
history  of  every  disgraceful  mark  and  scar  I 


Tony  Wins  His  Heart's  Desire          361 

have  on  me.     I  did  not  wish  her  to  be  thinking 
herself  lower  and  worse  than  I  !" 

"And  you  think— I  do  not  mean  to  hurt  you, 
Tony— but  you  think  this  marriage  will  hold 
her;  that  she  will  not  tire  of  it  ?" 

"  She'll  keep  faith  with  me,  I  have  no  fear  on 
that  score;  and  that  is  all  I  shall  ask  her,  just 
to  be  true  and  white.  It  isn't  as  if  I  hoped," 
the  yearning  eyes  and  twitching  lips  gave  the 
lie  to  the  words,  "that  she'd  ever  love  me — 
she's  so  young  and  pretty  and  straight !  But 
if  she  will  only  let  me  love  her  and  take  care  of 
her,  I'll  try  to  be—  "  he  could  not  go  on,  the 
love-hunger  in  his  heart  so  fought  down  his 
words. 

"  She  ought  to  worship  you,  heaven  knows  !" 
Laurence  answered,  thinking  of  the  many  times 
Tony  had  stood  between  her  and  harm.  But 
Tony  drew  his  hand  over  his  scarred  forehead, 
and  glanced  down  at  his  bent  leg  with  a  pathos 
that  was  close  to  tears. 

"It  isn't  likely,"  he  said;  then  added,  with 
an  envy  that  had  long  ached  in  his  heart, 
"Larry  Herrick  had  not  a  mark  on  him,  save 
the  one  I  gave  him  with  my  knife. " 

"  But  his  manhood  has  more  blots  on  it  than 
yours. " 

"It  ought  to  be  comforting  to  hear  you  say 


362  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

that;  but  it's  the  scars  that  show  that  offend 
a  woman." 

"You  have  no  sister,  Tony?" 

"  No  mother  or  sister  to  be  hurt  by  this 
marriage;  and  since  Lissa  is  willing,  it's  no 
body's  cursed  business." 

"And  you  have  come  to  me— 

"  I  have  come  to  you  because  the  preacher 
from  the  Randal  wedding  will  pass  through  the 
settlement  this  afternoon.  There  was  not  any 
use  for  me  and  Lissa  to  wait,  since  she  has 
made  up  her  mind;  so  he'll  marry  us  on  the 
warehouse  steps  this  afternoon — out  in  the  open 
air  where  everybody  can  see  I  take  her  fair  and 
square ;  and  I  want  you  there  with  me.  " 

Laurence  took  his  hand:  "I  will  stand  at 
your  right  hand,  Tony ;  and  wroe  to  the  man  who 
jeers  you  or  your  bride." 

As  the  crumpled  figure  rode  down  the  avenue, 
the  man  behind  took  off  his  hat :  "  Blessed  art 
thou  among  women,  Lissa  Sutley,  to  have  won 
a  heart  like  that !  Love  !  what  will  it  not  do ; 
what  depths  will  it  not  sound,  what  heights  will 
it  not  reach,  what  of  pain  will  it  not  endure, 
what  dangers  will  it  not  brave,  what  stains  will 
it  not  wipe  away  !  Condoning,  atoning,  sancti 
fying,  it  keeps  the  world  at  poise,  and  makes 
life  worth  the  pain  of  death." 


Tony  Wins  His  Heart's  Desire          363 

He  went  that  afternoon  to  the  settlement 
accompanied  by  his  mother,  whom  he  had  per 
suaded  to  give  this  marriage  the  sanction  and 
countenance  of  her  presence.  He  had  feared 
there  would  be  some  heartless  talk;  but  not  a 
single  voice  was  raised  in  disapproval  or  de 
rision  when,  in  the  quiet  afternoon  light,  the 
queer  little  bridegroom  and  his  lithe,  beautiful 
bride  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  warehouse  before 
the  minister  and  plighted  each  other  the  faith 
which,  when  kept,  blazes  out  the  path  to  Para 
dise.  Some  of  those  who  watched  the  strange 
ceremony  may  have  been  warned  into  silence 
by  the  quiet,  resolute  face  at  the  groom's  right 
shoulder;  others  may  have  remembered  the 
straight  aim  of  Tony's  gun;  but  many  more 
there  wrere  who  felt  the  far-reaching  tenderness, 
the  sublime  devotion,  the  infinite  pathos  of 
both  these  lives,  that  robbed  the  ceremony  of 
all  elements  of  sacrifice  or  selfishness,  and  made 
it  a  sacrament  worth  the  sanction  of  the  angels 
of  God. 

"  If  any  man  can  show  just  cause  why  this 
man  and  woman  may  not  be  joined  in  the  holy 
bonds  of  matrimony,  let  him  speak  now,  or  else 
forever  hereafter  hold  his  peace." 

Only  Laurence  saw  the  quiver  of  anxious 
terror  that  shook  the  girl's  slight  body,  and 


364  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

read  in  it  her  agony  lest  some  voice  from  the 
crowd  should  cry  out  her  un worthiness.  So 
had  he  himself  waited  during  that  self-same 
pause  for  some  accusing  voice  to  forbid  his 
troth ;  he  knew  the  very  dread  that  quivered  in 
the  girl's  heart.  But  the  faintest  whisper  of 
Larry  Herrick's  name  would  have  sent  her  to 
her  knees  in  shame.  But  now,  as  on  that  other 
occasion,  the  silence  was  unbroken,  and  the 
slanting  sunlight  fell  in  a  tender  effulgence  on 
the  bowed  heads  of  the  oddly  assorted  couple. 
"  I  pronounce  you  man  and  wife.  " 
And  so  it  was,  before  the  whole  settlement 
and  with  the  winter  wind  piping  the  bridal 
march,  Tony  Foster  won  his  heart's  hope,  and 
all  of  Lissa's  trials  ended.  In  at  Tony's  win 
dows  no  leering  eyes  might  look;  across  his 
threshold  no  temptation,  in  silken  hose  and 
doublet,  might  step.  She  had  found  the  haven 
of  safety  for  which,  in  the  silence  of  her  heart, 
she  had  long  yearned;  and  she  was  content. 
Only  for  Tony  would  she  pour  again  the  red 
wine  and  kiss  the  bead  from  the  glass ;  only  for 
Tony  would  her  light  feet  move  enchantingly 
to  the  low,  sweet  call  of  the  reed  whistle. 

"Do  you  know,"  Tony  said  to  Laurence,  in 
the  after  days  of  his  marriage,  and  there  was  a 
foolish,  happy  smile  on  his  crooked  face,  "do 


Tony  Wins  His  Heart's  Desire          365 

you  know  that  girl  o'  mine  loves  me,  actually 
loves  me  ?  Oh,  she  strikes  out  now  and  then 
with  her  tongue  and  her  fists,  strikes  good  and 
hard.  But  the  smile  of  her  when  her  temper's 
done  !  And  the  voice  of  her  when  she  puts  up 
her  red  mouth  and  says:  'Come,  Tony  dear, 
let  us  kiss  and  make  friends.' ' 

"  And  yet  there  was  a  time  when  you  thankee 
heaven  you  were  not  married,  and  pitied  me 
that  I  was,  "  was  the  teasing  answer. 

"Well,  a  man  may  change  his  mind." 

"  I  thought  you  set  that  down  as  a  woman's 
weakness — never  knowing  her  mind  for  long 
at  a  time?" 

"  Tis  a  trick  I've  learned  from  Lissa, "  Tony 
answered,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "  She  has 
twenty  minds  a  day — for  laughter,  for  tears, 
for  kisses,  for  frowns,  for  staying  at  home,  for 
going  abroad.  Oh,  I've  said  it  before,  and  I 
say  it  again,  that  for  changeableness  woman  was 
made  of  cross-cut  clay  that  was  wet  with  an 
April  shower  and  dried  in  an  April  sun  !" 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

THE  COIN  OF  THE  REALM  OF  HEARTS. 

"  For  love  at  first  is  but  a  dreamy  thing, 
That  slyly  nestles  in  the  human  heart." 

— AMELIA  WELBY. 

"'"pHERE  is  but  one  thing  to  do,"  said 
Laurence,  when  the  message  to  the 
Albemarle  settlement  remained  unanswered 
and  there  were  but  three  weeks  left  before  the 
assizes ;  "  I  must  myself  go  and  hunt  Seth  Perry 
and  bring  him  back  as  a  witness." 

And  so  he  and  Powhatan  started  away  down 
the  twisting  bridle  paths  and  blazed  wagon 
tracks  that  were  the  only  connecting  links  be 
tween  the  early  settlements  when  no  river 
flowed  from  one  to  the  other.  Seventy-five 
miles  must  he  go  before  he  reached  the  point  on 
the  Roanoke  where  the  Perrys  had  located,  and 
he  had  plenty  of  time  to  think  as  he  rode  through 
the  winter  forests  with  his  Indian  guides. 
Two  nights  they  camped  in  the  woods  with  only 
the  sky  for  a  covering;  and  two  they  found 
shelter  with  some  trappers.  The  fifth  they  saw 
366 


"  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts"       367 

the  lights  in  the  Perry  settlement.  But  it  was 
a  bootless  errand,  for  Seth  Perry  had  been  long 
dead,  and  his  sons  knew  nothing  of  the  matter 
in  hand.  So  after  a  two  day's  rest  for  the  horses 
Laurence  started  home  again.  It  was  a  wild 
return  journey,  for  snow  fell  in  blinding  swirls 
all  of  the  second  day,  bleaching  the  forests 
to  a  ghostly  whiteness,  blotting  out  the  narrow 
paths  ahead  of  them.  Only  the  instincts  of 
the  two  Indians  held  them  to  their  course. 
Before  night  they  were  forced  to  stop,  impelled 
by  the  wind  and  the  drifting  storm.  Under  the 
lee  of  a  cliff  they  built  their  fires,  and  watched 
by  turns  through  the  long  night,  the  light  from 
the  blazing  logs  making  a  nebulous  circle  in  the 
dark.  Strange  thoughts  came  to  Laurence  as 
he  sat  with  his  back  to  a  tree  and  his  gun  over 
his  knees  and  watched  the  fire  and  the  tethered 
horses  and  the  sleeping  Indians.  Overhead  the 
storm-tortured  branches  moaned  and  creaked 
and  now  and  then  from  the  outer  darkness  two 
balls  of  fire  were  turned  on  him,  gleaming, 
malignant,  as  some  four-footed  prowler  of  the 
night  drew  near  to  scent  how  much  of  danger 
would  lie  in  a  closer  inspection  of  this  strange 
phenomenon.  Weird  enough  the  shining  eyes 
looked  in  the  blackness,  with  no  visible  body 
behind  them;  and  Laurence  shivered  involun- 


368  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

tarily  as  the  long,  wordless  cries  of  terror  or 
warning  quavered  down  the  wind.  How  did 
men  live  alone  in  the  vast  wildernesses  about 
him?  He  was  not  a  coward,  but  he  would  go 
mad  with  no  companionship  but  those  disem 
bodied  eyes  through  the  pitiless  blackness  of 
such  nights  as  this.  Almost  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  the  direct  thought  of  death  came  to 
him.  Suppose  he  should  perish  there  in  the 
endless  forest,  would  Judith  grieve  for  him? 
He  was  not  going  to  die,  he  knew;  but  if  he 
should,  would  her  heart  soften  toward  him, 
knowing  that  in  all  save  that  one  thing  he  had 
been  true  ? 

"I  cannot  be  sorry  I  married  her,  I  cannot; 
even  if  she  is  not  happy.  Arthur  Seton  would 
have  broken  her  heart  in  another  and  a  more 
terrible  way, "  he  said,  his  hand  running  down 
the  long,  lean  barrel  of  his  gun.  Men  seldom 
understand  that  to  some  women  a  death  stroke 
from  a  beloved  hand  is  better  than  a  life- 
service  of  one  unloved. 

The  next  day  they  made  slow  progress,  for 
the  storm  still  held;  and  the  snow  had  so  ob 
literated  all  tracks  and  traces  that  even  the 
woodcraft  of  the  Indians  was  taxed  to  keep  the 
right  road.  Impatiently  Laurence  looked 
ahead  of  him  through  the  white  forest,  his  heart 


"  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts"       369 

on  fire  to  see  Judith,  to  hear  what  manner  of 
greeting  she  would  give  him  after  these  days 
of  absence.  The  thought  of  what  might  have 
been  but  for  Arthur  Seton's  return  tortured 
him,  so  that  his  guides  wondered  at  the  fierce 
light  in  his  eyes.  In  all,  the  home  journey  took 
some  eight  days,  for  one  cf  the  horses  fell  lame 
on  the  ice,  and  they  moved  at  a  snail's  pace. 
But  at  last  the  chimneys  of  Rivermead  came 
to  view,  and  Laurence  felt  his  pulse  quicken 
with  something  nearer  to  hope  than  had  stirred 
him  in  many  weeks. 

To  Judith  something  had  been  awry  since  the 
day  of  his  going.  At  first  she  did  not  realize 
what  it  was  that  made  the  days  so  long;  then 
it  came  to  her  that  it  was  missing  him  from 
about  the  house  and  from  the  table.  She 
seemed  always  waiting  for  something,  listening, 
even  while  she  sewed;  and  she  found  hersell 
impatient  at  the  sound  of  the  dinner-bell  be 
cause  of  the  sight  of  his  empty  chair.  A  hun 
dred  ways  she  missed  his  care,  seeing,  for  the 
first  time,  how  all  their  comfort  emanated  from 
him.  Often  she  looked  out  at  the  snow  with 
a  dim  resentment,  wondering  how  a  wanderer  in 
the  pathless  forest  might  fare  in  such  a  storm. 
She  did  not  haunt  the  porch  like  his  mother, 
but  she  moved  her  sewing  chair  so  that  the 


370  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

avenue  was  in  plain  view  through  the  low  win 
dow;  and  each  night  she  said  to  herself:  "He 
will  surely  come  to-morrow." 

And  yet  when  he  did  come  at  last,  she  stood 
behind  his  mother  in  the  hall  and  gave  him 
only  her  hand  for  greeting;  and  with  a  sudden 
chill  at  his  heart,  he  did  not  offer  to  kiss  her. 

"It  was  a  fruitless  errand,"  he  said,  as  they 
gathered  about  the  fire,  and  he  told  of  his 
journey. 

"So  the  money  must  be  raised?"  his  mother 
asked,  a  sharp  note  in  her  voice. 

"Yes;  a  thousand  pounds  cash  is  a  goodly 
sum.  It  will  take  much  pinching  and  saving 
to  pay  the  mortgage  back,  but  you  two  help 
me  greatly  by  your  cheerful  courage. " 

"Why  should  we  not  help  you?  You  are  in 
no  way  to  blame  for  this  matter, "  Judith  said, 
as  she  threaded  her  needle.  She  had  noticed 
the  difference  between  the  greeting  he  gave  his 
mother  and  that  he  gave  her,  and  had  set  it 
down  to  his  growing  coldness.  Feeling  her 
heart  like  a  stone  for  him  in  those  last  Novem 
ber  days,  she  had  wished  that  he  might  care 
less  for  her,  not  wanting  him  to  suffer  because 
of  his  kindness  to  her  father ;  and  now  the  wish 
was  coming  true,  for  day  by  day  she  felt  the 
distance  grow  between  them,  felt  it  with  a 


' '  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts  "       371 

sense  of  startled  bewilderment.  And  so  she 
was  surprised  when,  during  the  talk  of  his 
journey,  he  drew  his  chair  beside  hers  and  laid 
his  hand  on  her  shoulder.  She  did  not  move 
away,  but  somehow  she  could  not  go  on  with 
her  sewing  with  his  hand  thus,  and  she  sat 
looking  into  the  fire  while  he  told  of  the  storm 
in  the  forest.  Suppose  that  out  there  in  that 
desolate  whiteness  something  terrible  had 
happened — suppose  he  had  not  come  back  at 
all?  She  turned  quickly  to  her  work,  setting 
her  stitches  with  exaggerated  precision. 

"You  are  glad  to  see  me,  Judith?"  he  asked 

presently,  smiling  wistfully  at  her  averted  eyes. 

"Why  should  you  doubt  it?     Cousin  Janet 

has  sighed  twenty  times  a  day  for  your  return. " 

"But  you?" 

"I  too  have  missed  you  much." 
With  that  he  was  forced  to  be  content,  since 
she  was  so  undemonstrative,  and  he  too  sore 
from  many  repulses  to  ask  for  more.  He  had 
schooled  himself  to  wait  for  some  sign  from  her, 
some  token  of  forgiveness,  or  reviving  gentle 
ness;  it  was  a  bitterness  unspeakable  always 
to  have  his  heart  thrust  back  upon  itself.  She 
had  missed  him.  But  there  were  two  ways  of 
missing  a  man,  he  thought,  irritably;  yet  he 


372  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

counted  it  something  that  she  did  not  shake 
off  his  touch  from  her  shoulder. 

The  next  day  he  set  himself  to  a  last  search 
for  the  missing  receipt.  Once  more  did  he  and 
Judith  untie  every  package  of  yellowing  papers 
and  read  the  titles  and  contents.  He  even  took 
his  father's  desk  to  pieces,  hoping  to  find  some 
secret  drawer;  bnt  his  labour  was  for  nothing, 
for  there  was  no  such  compartment. 

'Tis  on  your  account  chiefly  that  I  am  loth 
to  pay  this  money  back,"  he  said,  as  he  and 
Judith  stood  looking  at  the  dismantled  desk. 
"  I  shall,  of  course,  keep  the  house  free  from 
any  lien,  that  you  and  mother  may  be  safe 
should  anything  befall  me;  but  we  shall  have 
to  practise  many  economies  to  piece  out  the 
mortgage  on  the  lower  plantation;  and  it 
grieves  me  greatly  that  any  privation  should 
come  to  you. " 

"There  is  no  occasion  to  worry  on  my  ac 
count,"  she  answered.  "I  shall  doubtless  feel 
no  inconvenience  whatsoever.  My  wants  are 
few. " 

"All  too  few.  I  would  you  were  extrava 
gant,  wasteful;  for  then  would  I,  through  your 
tastes,  have  some  claim  on  your  heart." 

"  You  have  already  a  claim  on  my  heart.  " 

"Yes,  truly;  but  'tis  not  honoured  much  in 


"  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts"       373 

the  draft.     I  mean  you  might  then  love  me." 

"And  do  I  not  love  you  now?"  Uncon 
sciously  she  copied  into  her  voice  the  same  level 
tone  of  self-control  that  had  come  to  mark  his. 

"  Not  as  I  wish ;  not  as  you  might  have  done, 
but  for  this  miserable  trouble  I  made  between 
us." 

She  turned  away ;  she  herself  never  mentioned 
the  thing  that  had  separated  them,  and  she 
had  come  to  dread  his  allusion  to  it,  for  always 
there  came  about  his  mouth  those  hard  lines  that 
she  disliked,  knowing  they  meant  anger  and 
harshness.  She  had  never  understood  that  the 
anger  was  for  Arthur  Seton,  and  not  for  her. 
So  the  gulf  between  them  always  gaped  the 
wider  after  such  an  allusion. 

The  middle  of  March  the  trial  fell.  Laurence 
came  back  from  Williamsburg  the  third  day 
and  brought  the  verdict ;  Amos  had  won,  of 
course,  and  the  money  was  ordered  paid  at  once. 

"  I  have  made  arrangements  to  borrow  half 
the  sum,  though  at  a  ruinous  rate  of  usury," 
he  said.  "Money  is  scarce  and  hard  to  get 
because  of  the  political  troubles  in  England. 
The  money-lenders  are  afraid,  not  knowing 
which  party  will  win  and  how  they  themselves 
will  be  left.  Here  in  the  Colonies  the  prospect 
for  tobacco  is  not  favourable,  and  land  is  a  drug 


374  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

in  the  market  with  all  the  wilderness  about  us. 
I  can  think  of  but  one  way  to  raise  the  other 
five  hundred  pounds."  He  spoke  slowly,  and 
looked  apprehensively  at  his  mother. 

"And  that  is ?" 

"  To  have  a  sale  of  part  of  our  furniture  and 
plate " 

"  Laurence  !     A  sale  of  our  effects  !" 

"We  have  over  much  for  our  own  use,"  he 
explained,  hastily,  "and  these  Cavalier  gentle 
men  who  have  recently  come  to  the  country, 
were  in  such  haste  and  straits  to  be  out  of 
England  that  they  came  empty-handed,  and 
will  be  glad  to  buy  of  our  surplus.  The  silver 
tankards  you  get  out  only  for  birthdays  and 
parties  should  bring  at  least  fifty  pounds  by 
themselves,  to  say  nothing  of  the  waiters  and 
pitchers,  and  all  the  extra  furniture  in  the 
garret  and  the  chests  of  unused  linen." 

Mistress  Falkner's  hands  fell  in  her  lap.  The 
stoicism  of  years  was  swept  away  in  a  rush 
of  outraged  pride.  Have  a  sale  in  her 
house !  Have  the  neighbours  and  common 
folk  turning  over  and  bidding  on  her  belong 
ings — things  that  were  hallowed  by  years  of 
memories  and  associations  !  The  thought  was 
like  fire  to  a  burn ;  and  her  indignation  was  not 
lessened  by  the  knowledge  that  Arthur  Seton, 


"  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts"       375 

through  Ann,  would  be  the  gainer  from  this 
sacrilege;  for  sacrilege  it  seemed  to  have  the 
public  appraiser  cry  out  goods  to  be  bid  upon 
or  jeered  at. 

But  the  Spartan  in  her  responded  to  the  call 
she  presently  made  upon  it ;  and  finally  she  set 
herself  to  sort  out  and  set  aside  the  things  with 
which  she  could  best  abide  to  part. 

"The  neighbours  are  talking  mightily," 
Tony  Foster  said  one  morning  when  he  came 
to  see  Laurence  on  business,  and  stopped  to 
have  a  glass  of  wine  in  the  hall. 

"And  what  are  they  saying?"  asked  Mistress 
Falkner,  with  tightening  lips. 

"Oh,  only  picking  out,  in  their  minds,  what 
they  mean  to  buy.  Harry  Beach  will  have 
the  candelabra  from  the  library  and  the  pictures 
from  the  dining-room,  for  he  considers  them  in 
the  finest  taste. " 

"He  might  have  waited  until  the  day  of  the 
sale,"  said  the  lady,  bitterly. 

"And  Ann  Randal — I  always  do  forget  to 
say  Ann  Seton— declares  that  in  all  Virginia 
there  is  not  a  sewing  chair  or  table  that  suits 
her  like  Mistress  Judith's,  and  that  she  shall 
bid  them  in  at  any  cost." 

"They  are  not  for  sale, "  Laurence  cried,  and 


376  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Judith  saw  the  angry  red  that  crept  up  under 
the  tan  of  his  cheek. 

"Oh,  she  stops  not  with  these  things;  but 
means  to  have  the  spinet  and  the  cheval  glass 
from  over  my  lady's  dresser,  and — 

But  Laurence  silenced  him  abruptly.  Ann 
knew  how  to  wound  deepest ;  no  man  would 
have  shot  a  dart  like  that ;  it  took  a  woman's 
keener  intuition  and  cruelty. 

"  Nothing,  not  the  very  smallest  article  that 
belongs  to  my  wife  will  be  offered  for  sale — tell 
the  whole  settlement  so,"  he  said,  curtly. 

After  that  day  Mistress  Falkner's  task  was 
harder  than  ever.  She  heard  in  fancy  the  bids 
on  every  article  selected  for  sale,  and  under 
this  pressure  she  often  grew  so  agitated  that 
she  could  not  count  the  spoons  or  sort  the  linen. 
Nor  could  she  bear  that  anyone  should  witness 
her  grief;  so  she  declined  even  Judith's  assist 
ance,  and  went  alone  to  her  task  each  day. 

"Busy  yourself  upstairs;  I  am  best  by  my 
self,"  she  said. 

"I  would  I  had  had  a  dower  to  help  you," 
Judith  said  to  Laurence,  as  she  passed  him  in 
the  hall. 

"You  were  fortune  enough  in  yourself,"  he 
answered,  with  that  gallantry  which  despite 


"  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts""       377 

his  new  reserve  never  failed  him  in  his  manner 
to  her. 

Banished  from  aiding  her  cousin,  she  had 
taken  a  fancy  to  fit  up  her  father's  room  as 
a  sewing  apartment,  and  busied  herself  with 
the  fresh  curtains  and  homespun  carpet  from 
the  plantation  looms.  She  had  set  the  pattern 
for  the  carpet,  and  had  an  especial  pride  in  it. 

"Cousin,"  she  said  one  morning,  "I  have 
been  rummaging  among  the  things  you  sent 
back  to  the  attic  after  your  selection,  and  I  find 
among  them  a  chair  that  pleases  my  fancy. 
If  there  is  no  objection,  I  would  like  it  for  my 
new  room." 

"Certainly;  but  'tis  good  for  naught.  We 
brought  it  from  England,  and  it  was  long  my 
husband's  favourite  seat.  It  stood  by  his  bed 
until  after  his  death,  although  it  was  even  then 
an  eyesore  for  shabbiness.  I  only  permitted 
it  because  he  was  so  set  on  having  it  in  sight. " 

Judith's  desire  to  have  the  chair  was  imme 
diately  increased.  Since  it  came  from  Eng 
land  it  had  perchance  been  at  Cotslea  and  was 
therefore  doubly  precious. 

"  I  will  re-cover  it  with  a  piece  left  from  my 
curtains,  and  you  will  see  it  is  no  longer  shabby," 
she  said.  And  so  the  things  were  fetched  from 


378  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

the  garret  and,  with  an  apron  pinned  over  her 
dress,  she  set  to  work  on  her  repairs. 

The  chair  was  an  odd  one,  with  cushioned 
back  and  broad  stuffed  arms  and  slanting 
spindle  legs,  which  latter  gave  it  an  air  of  stolid 
solidity.  She  sat  clipping  away  the  worn-out 
cover  and  thinking  sadly  of  the  trouble  that 
had  come  upon  the  household,  for  the  sound 
of  moving  furniture  and  rattling  silver  came 
up  to  her  through  the  open  door.  She  was 
sorry  for  her  husband  and  cousin,  but  for  herself 
she  did  not  so  much  mind;  it  seemed  some 
thing  apart  from  her.  The  padding  fell  away 
under  her  clipping,  leaving  the  chair  arms  bare, 
like  two  long  narrow  boxes.  How  many  elbows 
had  leaned  there  since  they  were  first  fashioned, 
how  many  little  hands  had  perchance  reached 
up  to  them  for  support !  Thinking  thus  ab 
sently,  she  sat  thrusting  her  scissors  into  a  crev 
ice  in  the  left  arm  where  the  top  board  had  not 
been  tacked  securely  down.  In  her  abstrac 
tion  she  pressed  harder  than  she  knew,  for  sud 
denly  the  scissors  slipped  and  disappeared 
within  the  crevice,  evidently  falling  to  the 
bottom  of  the  box-like  recess.  There  was  a 
sharp  clicking  sound  as  of  metal  striking  metal. 
Instantly  her  revery  was  broken ;  she  could  not 
spare  the  scissors  from  her  work-basket ;  and  so 


"  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts"       379 

fetching  a  poker  from  the  hearth  she  thrust  the 
sharp  end  into  the  tiny  crevice  and  pried  off 
the  top  board.  It  came  off  easily,  being  evi 
dently  lightly  fastened ;  and  dropping  the  poker 
she  bent  over  and  thrust  in  her  hand  to  draw 
out  her  scissors;  but  stopped  suddenly,  her 
heart  thumping  at  her  side,  her  eyes  dilating. 
Then  springing  up,  she  fled  down  the  hall  and 
stair,  calling  out  at  the  top  of  her  voice : 

"  Laurence,  Laurence  !  —  Cousin  Janet  !— 
Come,  both  of  you.  I  have  found  it,  I  have 
found  it !" 

They  came  hastily  in  answer  to  her  call,  but 
all  she  said  in  reply  t®  their  questions  was: 
"Come  quickly  and  see.  "  And  full  of  wonder 
they  followed  her  back  to  the  room  she  had 
quitted. 

"  Look,  "  she  cried,  drawing  them  to  the  chair 
and  pointing  to  the  hollow  in  the  arm.  And 
there,  on  a  bit  of  cloth,  making  a  yellow  shine 
in  the  darkened  niche,  lay  a  pile  of  gold. 

Old  Charles  Falkner's  hidden  treasure  was 
found. 

No  more  need  his  restless  spirit  come  back  on 
the  wind  to  seek  it ;  no  more  need  his  stick  go 
tapping  along  the  hall  in  that  vain  quest. 
What  he  had  so  carefully  hidden,  even  from 


380  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

himself,  another  had  discovered  in  a  moment 
of  idle  dreaming. 

Putting  in  his  hand,  Laurence  lifted  out  the 
cloth  and  poured  the  glittering  heap  into 
Judith's  apron.  At  the  bottom  were  several 
papers,  all  labelled;  one  bore  the  words: 
"Receipt  from  James  Randal,  16 — ."  He  held  it 
out  to  his  mother,  his  hand  shaking  so  that  she 
had  to  steady  it  with  her  own  upon  his  wrist 
ere  she  could  read  the  words.  In  a  silence 
more  eloquent  than  a  thousand  tongues  could 
have  been,  the  three  stood  looking  at  each 
other,  the  same  comprehension  and  relief  in 
each  face.  Then  swiftly  Mistress  Falkner 
turned  and  quitted  the  room,  and  her  voice, 
with  a  note  of  exultation  in  it,  shrilled  through 
the  house : 

"William,  Harriet,  cease  your  preparations; 
move   the   furniture   back   to   its    old   places. 
There  will  be  no  sale  here  next  week — or  ever  !" 

In  the  room  above,  Laurence  lifted  Judith's 
hand  to  his  lips;  "We  owe  you  much  grati 
tude,  my  mother  and  I." 

Gratitude?  That  was  a  strange  word  from 
a  husband  to  a  wife.  He  and  his  mother? 
She  drew  her  hand  sharply  away. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  and  turned  to 
the  window. 


"  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts"       381 

Presently  she  touched  him  on  the  arm: 
"The  gold?"  she  said,  holding  up  her  apron. 

"It  is  yours  to  do  with  as  you  like — to  buy 
silks,  jewels,  gew-gaws,  anything  you  fancy. 
The  more  extravagantly  you  spend  it,  the 
better  I  shall  be  pleased."  But  she  shook 
her  head.  "Can  you  not  let  me  give  you  this? 
I  robbed  you  of  everything  else." 

Under  her  eyelids  were  tears  through  which 
the  trees  outside  waved  in  a  gray  mist  that 
sheened  to  silver.  But  he  did  not  see,  for  he 
was  looking  at  the  finger  where  she  had  ceased 
to  wear  his  wedding  ring. 

"Gold  is  not  the  coin  of  the  realm  of  hearts," 
she  said,  and  went  quickly  to  meet  Mistress 
Falkner,  winking  away  the  tears  unseen.  How 
dared  he  think  that  gold  could  fill  her  empty 
heart !  That  jewels  and  silks  could  content 
her  for  her  loneliness  !  And  he,  watching  her, 
told  himself  bitterly  that  he  had  been  a  fool  to 
think  that  anything  could  outweigh  the  memory 
of  her  old  love  or  her  own  righteous  anger. 
The  gentlest  \vomen  are  often  the  cruelest 
when  once  aroused. 

Mistress  Falkner  was  on  her  knees  before 
the  old  chair:  "Strange  we  never  guessed 
there  was  some  mystery  about  it,"  she  said, 
touching  the  faded  cover.  "Charles  so  per- 


382  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

sistently  kept  it  near  him  during  that  last 
year;  moving  it  from  the  far  end  of  the  hall 
yonder  to  his  bed-head  every  night,  and  back 
again  in  the  morning.  And  we  who  saw  this 
never  suspected  anything;  and  Judith  here, 
who  knew  naught  of  his  habits,  has  saved  us  all 
with  her  little  prying  scissors  !" 

"I  have  been  telling  her  of  the  good  grati 
tude  we  owe  her." 

The  older  woman  laughed  and,  with  a  most 
unusual  demonstration,  took  the  younger  one 
close  in  her  arms  and  kissed  her  twice. 

"This  is  the  only  proper  way  to  speak  out 
gratitude." 

For  a  minute  Judith  clung  to  her,  glad  of 
the  unaccustomed  tenderness,  so  great  was 
the  isolation  of  her  life.  As  she  turned  from 
the  embrace  her  eyes  met  Laurence's  and  the 
colour  flashed  into  each  face.  He  had  spoken 
his  thanks  with  a  touch  to  her  hand. 

That  night  when  he  went  to  his  room  he 
found  the  gold,  tied  in  its  cloth,  lying  on  his 
table.  Disappointment  that  she  had  refused 
it  was  forgotten  in  the  quick-rushing  knowl 
edge  that  she  had  been  once  more  in  his  room, 
had  stood  there  beside  the  table,  mayhap  had 
sat  a  moment  in  his  chair.  Ah,  God,  if  he 
could  only  have  come  and  found  her !  She 


"  The  Coin  of  the  Realm  of  Hearts"       383 

should  never  have  gone  away;  he  would  have 
held  her  against  his  own  resolution,  against 
herself.  Was  he  not  her  husband?  and  were 
not  the  words  of  the  service,  the  beautiful  vow 
of  his  marriage  "to  have  and  to  hold,  to  love 
and  cherish  until  death?'"  Speak  his  grati 
tude  in  kisses  !  yes,  until  there  was  no  coldness 
left  in  her  face,  until  the  fire  in  his  heart  had 
kindled  an  answering  flame  in  hers.  She  was 
right:  gold  was  not  the  coin  of  the  realm  of 
hearts.  It  was  love,  love,  love  ! 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

THE  LAST  CAST  OF  THE  SHUTTLE. 

"  O  happy  weaver,  thy  task  is  sped, 
And  fair  and  true  is  the  pattern  spread; 
And  the  last  bright  thread  that's  woven  in 
Is  a  thread  of  love,  and  not  of  sin." 

-K. 

XT  EXT  after  his  Excellency,  Harry  Beach 
was  the  first  one  to  give  Laurence 
joy  of  his  discovery,  coming  all  the  way  to 
Rivermead  to  say  how  glad  he  was  not 
to  have  a  chance  to  bid  on  the  candelabra  and 
pictures.  Even  Amos  shook  hands  warmly, 
renewing  the  friendship  of  a  lifetime.  But 
from  Ann  there  came  no  sign  of  pleasure  or 
disappointment.  Arthur  was  constantly  at 
Sutley's,  and  rumour  was  already  whispering 
that  he  was  making  her  drink  the  cup  of  bit 
terness;  but  her  black  eyes  looked  defiantly 
at  the  world,  and  her  red  lips  laughed  down 
the  unspoken  pity  of  friends.  She  had  plotted 
and  waited  long  for  a  draught  of  love's  bright 
wine,  and  if  there  were  lees  in  the  cup,  she 
made  no  sign. 

384 


The  Last  Cast  of  the  Shuttle  385 

"But  for  the  tongue  of  her,  she'd  make  as 
fine  a  man  as  ever  trod  shoe  leather,"  Tony 
said,  with  grudging  admiration.  "Her  heart 
is  not  a  pudgy  mud-pie  and  there  isn't  a  whim 
per  in  her.  Not  a  gambler  at  Sutley's  wins 
or  loses  his  game  with  more  courage.  But 
the  tongue  is  all  woman — sharp,  and  as  easy- 
running  as  a  water-wheel  at  flood  time." 

Upon  Rivermead  there  came  again  the  old 
quiet,  unruffled  by  the  harassments  of  debt. 
La,ureiice's  brow  lost  its  frown,  and  Mistress 
Falkner's  thoughts  were  no  longer  absorbed 
by  a  dreary  vision  of  her  plate  and  furnishings 
in  her  neighbours'  cupboards  and  closets.  And 
the  dead,  too,  seemed  satisfied;  for  after  that 
spring  never  again  was  heard  the  mysterious 
tapping  along  the  upper  hall.  The  servants 
whispered  among  themselves  that  Charles 
Falkner  was  content,  since  his  gold  was  found, 
and  that  his  soul  had  gone  to  rest  at  last.  But 
Laurence  knew  that  a  loose  lath,  long  unnoticed 
over  the  outer  door,  had  been  nailed  in  place, 
so  that  the  wind,  coming  down  from  the  west, 
might  no  longer  make  sport  of  it  as  of  a  thing 
uncanny. 

Nor  was  the  only  change  that  came  to  River- 
mead  confined  to  the  house.  Day  by  day  the 
gardens  and  fields  and  forests  underwent  a 


386  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

subtle  transfiguration  as  the  spring  unfolded 
its  wonders.  The  March  wind,  like  a  rough 
lover,  won  the  crocus  from  the  sod,  and  teased 
and  tossed  the  willows  until  they  hung  out 
their  catkins  to  his  fierce  caress;  brown  leaves 
were  skurried  aside  that  the  violet  roots,  deep 
in  the  mould,  might  feel  the  sun-warmth; 
bluebirds  came  flitting  back  singly  or  in  pairs; 
and  the  great  heart  of  the  woods  awakened  to 
the  passionate  call  that  reached  it  through  the 
shadow  and  shine  of  the  weaving  hours.  With 
the  advent  of  April  the  willows  lost  their  golden 
gleams,  and  stood  over  the  brooks  like  trans 
fixed  showers  of  emerald  rain;  the  wild  violet 
beds  might  have  filched  their  colour  from  the 
sky;  and  up  in  the  tall  tree  tops  there  was  a 
ceaseless  whispering,  as  if  the  young  leaves 
were  gossiping  with  each  other  over  their  own 
growth  or  the  stories  the  fickle  wind  or  hurrying 
raindrops  brought  from  far  countries  or  high, 
white  clouds. 

So  happy  was  Mistress  Falkner  in  escaping 
the  humiliation  of  the  sale,  that  she  quite 
forgot  her  secret  resentment  against  Judith  for 
Laurence's  sad  face.  After  the  two  women 
had  kissed  each  other  beside  the  dismantled 
chair  of  the  dead  master  a  new  bond  was  be 
tween  them,  a  confidence  that  drew  them  so 


The  Last  Cast  of  the  Shuttle  387 

close  together  that  Laurence  often  felt  him 
self  in  the  way,  shut  out  and  deserted;  and  a 
queer  jealousy  took  possession  of  him.  So 
aloof  did  he  hold  himself  that  there  came  upon 
Judith  a  vague  fear  that  she  had  lost  him  al 
together.  Always  was  he  considerate,  always 
he  thanked  her  for  any  slight  service  rendered 
him,  but  it  was  the  thanks  of  a  courteous  ac 
quaintance  rather  than  of  a  husband  or  a 
lover.  Sometimes  when  she  was  sure  he  was 
not  in  the  house,  she  slipped  into  his  room  and 
sitting  by  his  table  went  over  in  her  mind  all 
his  kindness  and  affection,  and  strove  again  to 
see  from  his  standpoint  that  terrible  tempta 
tion  and  the  yielding  that  had  followed  it. 
There  was  where  she  always  faltered  in  her 
thoughts  of  him — if  only  he  had  not  wedded 
her  unfairly  !  She  saw  clearly  the  difference 
between  him  and  Arthur  Seton;  the  broad 
manhood  of  the  one,  the  careless  selfishness 
of  the  other.  Only  that  one  ignoble  action 
gibed  at  her  in  her  efforts  at  justification. 
Once  she  dropped  a  ribbon  from  her  hair  onto 
his  floor,  and  he  found  it  and  pinned  it  on  his 
coat,  and  came  into  the  library  with  his  face 
like  a  new  dawn,  an  eager  question  on  his  lips. 
But  with  a  sudden  perverseness  she  refused  to 
meet  his  eyes,  and  answered  indifferently  that 


388  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Cousin  Janet  had  sent  her  to  his  room  to  see 
that  the  maid  had  dusted  properly;  and  with 
something  nearer  an  oath  than  she  had  ever 
heard  him  utter,  he  threw  the  ribbon  into  the 
fire,  and  went  out  without  another  word,  about 
his  mouth  those  hard  lines  she  hated.  That 
night,  for  the  first  time  in  many  weeks,  she 
cried  herself  to  sleep. 

That  was  the  last  effort,  if  effort  it  might 
be  called,  he  made  at  reconciliation;  but  day 
by  day  her  thoughts  were  going  out  to  him 
with  greater  reach  of  tenderness.  It  could  not 
be  otherwise  with  the  nobility  of  his  character 
always  before  her.  Unconsciously  she  listened 
for  his  step  as  he  came  and  went  about  the 
house,  and  if  he  passed  her  door  her  pulses 
were  in  a  flutter.  Never,  since  that  night 
when  she  had  shut  the  door  in  his  face,  had 
he  asked  admission  or  so  much  as  turned  his 
head  to  look  in  as  he  passed.  But  she  always 
heard  him,  always  felt  his  presence;  and  it  was 
of  him  she  dreamed  as,  from  her  windows,  she 
watched  the  changing  face  of  the  April  world. 

A  mood  like  this  was  on  her  one  afternoon 
as  she  sat  stitching  in  her  sewing  room.  She 
had  sent  the  seamstress  away  because  the 
woman's  presence  jarred  on  her.  She  wanted 
no  one  to  speak  to  her,  no  one  near  her.  Lau- 


rence  had  been  ailing  for  several  days,  and 
she  had  been  only  as  far  as  his  door  to  ask 
after  him.  To-day  he  had  come  out  to  dinner, 
and  the  image  of  him,  with  the  traces  of  suffer 
ing  on  his  face,  came  to  her  now,  nettling  her 
with  self-reproach,  so  that  at  last  she  put  aside 
her  sewing  and  looked  about  for  a  book  to 
take  away  her  thoughts.  In  the  table  drawer 
she  found  her  father's  old  diary,  and  turning 
the  leaves  at  first  carelessly,  she  soon  became 
interested  in  the  contents.  It  seemed  almost 
like  being  with  him  to  go  over  his  daily  plans 
and  actions.  She  had  often  meant  to  look 
the  book  over,  but  for  some  reason  had  never 
done  so.  Here  was  the  last  entry  at  Cotslea, 
a  solemn  lamentation  over  leaving  the  home 
nest;  she  had  not  known  before  how  his  heart 
had  ached  at  severing  the  old  ties.  These 
leaves  that  followed  contained  the  history  of 
their  voyage,  comments  on  their  fellow  exiles, 
a  disparaging  appraisement  of  Arthur  Seton; 
and  here  was  the  first  page  dated  at  River- 
mead. 

Here  was  a  protest  against  his  daughter's 
preference  for  Arthur  Seton,  a  protest  full  of 
regret  and  anger;  and  a  dim  foreshadowing 
of  what  he  had  hoped  for  her  and  Laurence. 
Still  other  pages  were  filled  with  the  same 


390  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

plaint ;  and  then  under  a  June  date  were  the 
words:  "Thanks  be  to  heaven  Seton  is  gone 
back  to  England.  May  the  sharks  devour  him 
or  the  Roundheads  roast  him  ere  he  return  to 
claim  my  Judy's  promise." 

Further  on  what  a  glowing  tribute  was  paid 
to  Laurence,  to  his  generosity,  his  nobility  in 
all  things.  For  the  first  time  Judith  learned 
how  dependent  they  had  been  upon  her  cousin's 
bounty,  and  how  joyfully  and  generously  he 
had  assumed  the  burden.  Her  eyes  filled  as 
she  read. 

Turning  several  pages  at  a  time,  she  skimmed 
through  the  news  of  her  brother's  death  and 
Arthur's  sudden  killing,  and  the  long  wail  over 
her  heart-broken  grief.  How  angry  it  made 
him  to  see  her  sad  for  Seton,  with  Laurence 
waiting  for  a  kind  word.  There  were  some 
characteristic  imprecations  on  the  blindness  of 
women  in  general  and  his  daughter  in  par 
ticular  that  made  her  smile,  so  life-like  did 
they  sound. 

On  this  page  was  a  note  of  the  burning  of 
Cotslea,  and  over  here  a  perfect  Te  Deum  of 
praise  for  her  betrothal  to  Laurence.  A 
dozen  more  pages  of  uninteresting  entries,  and 
then  her  hand  trembled,  for  under  a  late  date 
of  the  past  May  she  read : 


"It  hath  come  upon  us  like  a  thunderstroke 
that  Arthur  Seton  be  not  dead.  To-day  Lau 
rence  had  a  letter  from  him,  written  from  an 
Irish  prison.  Methought  my  poor  boy  would 
go  out  of  his  senses  with  grief  at  the  thought 
of  losing  Judith,  and  his  marriage  but  two 
days  off.  Nevertheless  he  was  all  for  telling 
her  despite  my  entreaty.  I  told  him— 

Breathlessly  she  turned  the  page  and  read 
through  all  the  argument  the  two  men  had 
that  day  together.  How  Laurence  held  out 
for  revealing  all,  and  how  at  last  Sir  Thomas 
left  him  in  anger,  and  meeting  his  daughter  on 
the  stair  had  made  one  last  effort  to  stay  the 
disastrous  misfortune  by  strictly  charging  her 
that  in  no  wise  was  she  to  let  Laurence  talk  to 
her  of  the  cause  of  his  worriment. 

Sitting  there  alone  in  the  April  afternoon, 
Judith  recalled  his  injunction  and  how  she 
had  carried  it  out.  "I  will  none  of  your 
secret,"  she  had  said,  with  her  finger  on  her 
cousin's  pale  lips.  "Let  us  talk  instead  of  our 
marriage."  Was  ever  plea  more  subtly  made 
against  a  man's  resolution?  Something  about 
her  heart  tightened  and  loosened  again  as 
she  read  the  old  man's  delight  that  Laurence 
had,  after  all,  held  his  peace ;  and  his  culminat 
ing  joy  over  her  wedding.  Every  detail  of 


392  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

that  ceremony  was  set  down,  even  to  the  inci 
dent  with  Ann  Randal  and  his  suspicion  as  to 
what  she  knew. 

Judith  finished  the  whole  in  a  breathless 
eagerness;  then  sat  quite  still,  gazing  out  of 
the  window  at  the  flickering  green  of  the  sway 
ing  branches  with  a  new  happiness  in  her  eyes. 
After  all,  then,  her  husband  had  not  been  to 
blame.  It  was  he  who  had  meant  and  tried  to 
do  the  honest  thing;  and  she  and  her  father 
had  tempted  him  beyond  his  strength.  Upon 
them  was  the  blame,  not  upon  him;  he  had 
striven  to  be  true,  and  they  would  not  let  him. 
All  this  while  she  had  condemned  him,  scorned 
him  for  a  weakness  that  fringed  upon  a  crime ; 
and  now  it  was  she  who  must  ask  his  pardon. 
Often  she  had  thought  of  those  last  fancies  of 
her  father,  but  Cousin  Janet  had  insisted  again 
and  again  that  he  knew  nothing,  that  it  was 
but  the  fever;  even  after  the  knowledge  of 
Ann's  hidden  letter  she  had  held  to  this,  and 
Judith,  unable  to  think  her  father  capable  of 
deceiving  her,  had  accepted  the  theory.  Now 
she  wondered  at  her  own  simplicity  in  not  more 
accurately  reading  the  enigma.  She  and  Cousin 
Janet  had  both  been  blind. 

In  a  feverish  impatience  to  right  her  share 
in  the  wrong  of  tempting  Laurence  and  make 


The  Last  Cast  of  the  Shuttle  393 

atonement  therefor,  she  hurried  downstairs, 
carrying  the  book  with  her.  Laurence's  for 
mality  and  reserve  were  alike  forgotten;  she 
remember  only  that  she  had  wronged  him  in 
her  judgment.  Powhatan  was  stamping  at 
the  side  rack,  so  she  knew  his  master  was 
somewhere  within.  Mistress  Falkner  called 
to  her  from  the  dining-room,  but  she  only  shook 
her  head  and  passed  on,  looking  into  the 
library  and,  with  a  shy  timidity,  through  her 
husband's  open  door.  He  had  gone  to  the 
boat-house,  William  told  her  presently;  and 
without  waiting  for  hat  or  gloves,  with  only 
a  blue  throat-scarf  over  her  head,  she  hurried 
down  the  avenue.  He  sat  on  the  bench  beside 
the  water,  patiently  untangling  a  fishing  line. 
At  his  feet  Snap  lay  in  the  sun,  his  eyes  turned 
upward  in  that  animal  devotion  that  never 
fails,  though  human  hearts  grow  cold.  On 
the  bench  beside  him  was  a  bunch  of  violets 
and  cowslips,  gathered,  she  knew,  for  her. 
Far  off,  near  the  horizon,  a  great  white  cloud- 
ship,  rigged  with  jutting  spars  and  sails,  floated 
in  the  limitless  ocean  of  azure;  and  down  be 
low,  with  sheen  of  silver  and  shine  of  jewel,  the 
river  ran  between  its  emerald  banks  singing  of 
the  sea.  As  by  some  subtle  searing  process, 
every  detail  of  the  scene  was  etched  upon 


394  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

Judith's  consciousness,  though  she  paused  only 
long  enough  to  see  that  Laurence's  strong 
shoulders  had  a  slight  droop  in  them,  and 
that  he  was  pale  and  serious.  She  was  smit 
ten  afresh  \vith  contrition  to  think  she  had 
left  him  all  these  days  to  his  mother,  doing 
nothing  for  his  comfort  or  easement. 

He  looked  up  at  sound  of  her  step,  and 
dropped  the  tangled  thread,  there  was  such 
tumult  of  timidity  and  eagerness  in  her  face. 

"Judith!     What  is  it?" 

"Laurie,  Laurie,  I  know  everything — every 
thing !" 

"Know  everything?     I  do  not— 

"Yes;  oh,  if  you  had  only  told  me  before! 
Read  this — read  it  all,"  she  cried,  dropping  to 
the  bench  beside  him  and  spreading  the  open 
book  upon  his  knees. 

He  would  have  spoken,  but  she  repeated  her 
injunction  imperiously;  so  with  her  shoulder 
against  his,  thrilling  him  with  a  delirious  joy, 
storming  his  heart  with  a  fierce  temptation,  his 
eyes  followed  her  finger  as  it  travelled  from 
line  to  line  until  the  pages  that  told  of  the 
letter,  the  long  argument  and  their  final  mar 
riage  had  been  read.  At  the  end  she  lifted 
her  eyes  to  his  in  a  mute  appeal. 

"There  is  nothing  here  that  is  new  to  me 


395 

save  his  injunction  to  you  not  to  question  me 
or  let  me  talk  of  my  trouble.  I  did  not  know 
of  that,  but  the  rest  happened  just  as  he  has 
written  it,"  he  said. 

"And  you  never  told  me  father  knew — that 
he  counselled  you  not  to  tell  me  ! " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"Why? — you  must  have  known  how  much 
weight  it  would  carry  with  me." 

"For  three  reasons:  First,  because  I  was 
a  man  and  should  have  had  a  man's  strength 
to  choose  for  myself  between  the  right  and 
the  wrong.  In  the  second  place,  I  knew 
nothing  of  this  diary — my  uncorroborated 
word  might  have  had  no  value  with  you." 

"Laurie  !" 

"There  was  already  one  deception  between 
us,  so  I  had  no  claim  upon  your  confidence. 
You  refused  to  accept  my  assurance  that  on 
my  soul  I  believed  Arthur  Seton  to  be  dead," 
he  reminded  her.  She  bit  her  lip,  remember 
ing  how  she  had  doubted  him  and  brooded 
over  it. 

"And  the  third  reason  ?"  she  asked  presently. 

"Sir  Thomas  could  not  defend  himself." 

"And  you  nobly  assumed  all  the  blame  rather 
than  thrust  any  part  of  it  upon  the  dead  ?" 

"Nay,"    he    answered   quickly;    "to   me   fell 


396  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

the  joy  of  the  deception — the  unspeakable 
happiness  of  possessing  you  even  for  a  while ; — 
to  me,  too,  should  fall  the  punishment.  That 
was  but  even-handed  justice."  He  was  looking 
at  her  with  an  expression  she  had  never  seen 
before;  but  he  made  no  effort  to  so  much  as 
take  her  hand,  into  which  she  had  gathered 
the  dandelions  and  violets  from  the  bench. 
He  closed  the  diary  and  laid  it  aside;  a  bird 
in  the  river  reeds  piped  a  few  clear  notes;  up 
above,  the  cloud-ship  unfurled  another  sail 
and  moved  with  greater  speed  toward  two 
islands  of  light  beside  the  shining  strand  lying 
low  down  in  the  west  under  the  setting  sun. 

"I  often  thought  of  father's  strange  fancy, 
but  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  he,  too,  would 
deceive  me.  I  never  thought  of  the  injustice 
I  was  doing  you." 

He  did  not  answer,  but  laid  his  hand  on 
Snap's  head  as  it  rested  against  his  knee.  She 
crushed  the  blossoms  in  her  own  grasp. 

"I — I  do  most  heartily  repent  me,  Laurence, 
of  my  share  in  leading  you  into  this  tempta 
tion." 

"You  have  no  cause  for  repentance.  What 
you  did  was  in  ignorance,  and  at  your  father's 
request." 


The  Last  Cast  of  the  Shuttle  397 

Again  her  shoulder  touched  his,  a  thousand 
desires  were  clamouring  in  his  heart,  making 
a  leaping  madness  in  his  blood;  but  with  a 
supreme  effort  he  put  them  by.  Her  re 
pentance  for  an  imaginary  fault  was  not  enough ; 
only  in  love  would  he  take  her. 

"And  I  am  sorry,  too,  for  these  long  months 
of  estrangement  between  us.  Can  you — can 
you  forgive  me?" 

"Hush!"  he  answered  quickly.  "You  have 
no  need  to  ask  forgiveness.  The  fault  was 
mine  alone ;  you  but  held  to  what  you  felt  was 
true  and  right;  and  that  is  principle." 

"But  I  wounded  you  so." 

"Yes." 

"I  was  so  harsh  in  my  anger." 

"True;  but  your  anger  against  me  was  just, 
since — I  fraudulently  took  you  from  the  man 
you  loved." 

He  had  remembered  her  angry  words.  How 
cruel  they  sounded  now,  and  how  they  must 
have  stabbed  and  hurt  him.  She  hesitated; 
all  his  aloofness,  his  silent  reserve  rushed  over 
her.  He  seemed  immeasurably  far  away 
sitting  there  beside  her  in  the  quiet  evening 
light.  But  she  had  done  with  estrangements, 
done  with  the  cloying  loneliness  that  stifled 


398  The  Wooing  of  Judith 

her.  Her  trembling  hands  spilled  the  flowers 
she  had  crushed. 

"Listen,  Laurie;  I  never  thought  to  say  it, 
but  I  am  glad  you  took  me  from  him;  glad 
things  turned  just  as  they  are— 

"Judith,  beloved  !"  his  arms  were  about  her. 
"Say  not  another  word  unless  you  mean  it  all !" 

"I  do  mean  it;  for  now  I  know  how  good 
and  true  you  are,  and  all  my  heart  is  yours. 
And  O,  my  husband,  you  must  love  me  again, 
because — because— 

And  then  close  against  his  heart,  with  his 
lips  upon  her  cheek,  she  told  him  all  that  had 
drawn  her  heart  to  him  and  made  the  future 
without  his  love  impossible. 

And  as  they  whispered  thus,  hand  folded  in 
hand,  the  foolish  happy  tears  wetting  their 
cheeks,  they  forgot  the  world.  The  dog,  in 
dumb  jealousy,  thrust  his  nose  against  his 
master  and  was  unnoticed;  the  flowers,  falling 
into  the  water,  went  dipping  over  the  ripples 
like  a  gold  and  purple  fleet  of  hopes,  bound 
for  some  far  haven.  The  bird  in  the  reeds 
poured  out  its  heart  in  shrill  trebles  and  soft 
crescendoes;  the  cloud-ship  passed  the  islands 
of  light  and  followed  the  sun  into  the  port  of 
dreams,  and  the  amber  April  twilight  stole 


399 

softly  down  the  sky.  But  the  two  beside  the 
water  knew  only  what  they  read  in  each  other's 
shining  eyes. 

For  the  coin  of  the  realm  of  hearts  is  love, 
love,  love. 

THE    END. 


Uni 


